Safe & Sound
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: Phil lives in a boarding school for the disturbed and Dan is a rich socialite living a dream. The only thing they have in common is Youtube. When Dan's family takes Phil in for a school year for publicity, they discover they have more in common than what they think.
1. Chapter 1

**PHIL**

Nights get pretty lonely around here. I've never known it any differently, but it must me lonelier and more miserable for those who can't sleep –people like me, for instance. You're left in an otherwise vacant room by yourself, tossing and turning on a cold, lumpy cot. All that accompanies you in your sleeplessness are the wails of other students who can't help but wail, and your own thoughts, if you can hear them. I can drone those voices out, and let my mind wander.

This has been my little niche for a long time now, ever since my foster family gave me up. The Jeffersons were the last in a long line of white-picket-fence folk from the neighborhood I'd grown up in, and was passed from house to house up and down the street. "Friends of the family," all of them: the Connors, the Mansons, the Newmans, the St. Pauls; and the others from when I was very young, the ones I didn't stay with long. Whatever debt they felt they owed my mother, they didn't endure the sulking by day and screaming by night (this was before I trained myself not to sleep), and I was quickly relocated.

And after the ninth or tenth home in six years, Lydia –my sweet foster agent, who still checks in time to time— dropped me off on the front step of Arlington Academy (for Troubled Youth). I didn't know on arrival that it was meant for kids and teens with any in a plethora of mental illnesses. There were a hundred sixty-seven when I arrived; I filled the only available room, as the hundred sixty-eighth. And so here I've stayed the last four years, but soon that too may change.

I twitched, and glanced out the window. I'd moved my cot right in front of it because the building faced east, and I could relax again with the sun peeking over the mountains, saying hello and good morning. Nothing put me at ease like a clear sunrise –not any therapy or medication they feed me could bring the same relief, not even close. But I'd learned how long the night would last, and the sun would sleep for quite a while yet, unlike myself.

I tried to relax into the well-worn mattress. I could easily feel through the thin cotton sheet where I'd laid night after night. At one time the indent was distorted by my shuffling in the night, but with the insomnia I'd managed to just lay still until the sun gave a hint of returning. I waited anxiously for morning.

_Don't blink_, I warned myself, biting my lip and staring into the darkness above me. _Don't even blink; blink and you'll sleep, sleep and the nightmares will return_.

I couldn't lie there long in my state, and hopped up, feet landing on the cold floor with a thud. I shivered, but stood and paced for a short while, before settling at my desk. I had a laptop; my internet use, the sites I visited, were strictly monitored, but otherwise it gave me some freedom. When I uploaded a video to YouTube, nobody would bat an eye. I thought maybe, if they were really supposed to keep an eye on us, they should watch it, but as far as I could tell the underpaid staff had no real intention of looking into the four-minute musings of a kid "with issues."

I set my cheap camera up. I didn't dare turn on the dim humming lamp this late, but the moon and some night-vision would provide just enough base light for me to fix later, for my audience to see me. It was far from the first time I'd film at this hour; it was an effective and, I thought, healthy way to keep from sleep. Plus, I did have something I wanted to talk about.

"I might be leaving tomorrow. Not the channel or anything, but the school. I heard about some rich family that wanted to take in a student for a year, or something, and today I was told they picked me. I don't know what that means or whether or not I'm gonna like it, but I'll try to make the most of it. I'll try to keep everyone updated!"

And that was it. My content was usually much longer, but every once in a while I'd upload just a little tidbit I wanted to share (they don't allow us on other social networks, ones that could not be so easily tracked). Everyone who watched seemed not to mind. I smiled and quickly fixed the brightness, which looked a little sloppy tonight but I uploaded anyway.

My eyelids were heavy but I didn't even blink. I'd trained myself not to, and they would itch and burn and tear, but to fall asleep would only be more painful. I didn't need to think about those things; I didn't want to wake up screaming, inconsolable, and need to be sedated –again. I wanted to cry –yes, cry— from lack of sleep but what other choice did I have? To be haunted by these terrible visions without escape? To call on a nurse who honestly couldn't care less, and would just tell me to "pop a pill," like always? No, thank you.

I stared out the window, my eyes well-adjusted to the darkness. I watched the wind rustle the trees, heard the soft gurgling of the nearby stream. I longed to go out there; I hadn't stepped foot out of this building since I'd been first made to step in. They don't let us out to play and romp around, not even the much younger students who could really probably improve in their conditions just with some fresh air. I know I would benefit from a soft breeze every now and then. My windows were barred, and the door was heavily locked. There was no escape. I curled up on my rickety chair, feeling too much like an animal in a cage. I buried my face in my knees and cried, but didn't let my eyes fall shut. Don't even blink.

I didn't know quite how long I sat there, bony knees pressed to my forehead. When I finally lifted my throbbing skull, there was some light creeping through the window. I jumped up and rushed back to my bed, kneeling in my mattress dent, and saw the most calming of beautiful sunrises. Pink and orange and blue mixed and tinted the dim sky in cooling pastels, bright sunbeams bursting forth from behind the crest of the distant hills. It was daytime; it was easier to stay awake now, as a hustle of noise started to set into the building. No one could sleep through this, none so less than I. I was calm; I was safe.

I was watching a fancy car roll into the round in front of the school, parking just outside the door. It had to be them.


	2. Chapter 2

**DAN**

"Chloe, get out of my room."

"Daddy's gonna kill you if he finds out you're cooped up in your room again."

"He's gonna kill that Michael Conrad kid when he finds out you've been out with him instead of those dance classes he's paying for; the ones you begged for in the first place."

My younger sister tried to hold her ground, but her resolve faltered a bit at the mention of Michael Conrad. I really couldn't care less about what a couple of fifteen-year-olds were doing behind closed doors, but it gave me leverage I wasn't about to give up. "You wouldn't dare," she challenged.

I spun around in my desk chair, hands folded across my lap and a triumphant, smug smirk on my face. I did so love having the upper hand, especially when that hand was full of dirt. "Try me. Now get out of my room."

Defeated but not willing to give up her pride, Chloe spun on her heel, skirt of her dress flapping up behind her as she exited the bedroom –_my_ bedroom— with a loud slam of the door. I sighed and turned back to my camera; the red light was still glowing, and I maybe, or maybe wouldn't, cut out that little banter later on. I leaned a bit closer after a moment of silence. "Let's talk about bratty little sisters…"

* * *

I took my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and glass of milk to eat at the window. The September breeze filtered in through the open slots and felt kind of good, so I settled there and took the first bite.

I was halfway done with eating when one of the cars pulled up in front –Mom and Dad were home. I checked the time; nearly ten in the morning, and they'd left before sun up –what took them so long? Intrigued, I watched the goings-on outside. They got out and opened the back door and –who was that? No, really, who was that they brought home, to our house, my house, without saying anything?

I dropped my sandwich onto the plate and left it there, knowing Mary would clean it up while I track down some much needed answers.

I got out the front door in time to hear my mother speaking unusually kindly to the stranger. "I'll have Mary get you settled up— Oh, Daniel's come out to greet his new best friend!"

I flinched at the mention of my name, and how she spoke to the young man as if he weren't there. I shook my head, not thinking of first impressions or anything like that. I went to go immediately back inside, but my father's stern voice –"Daniel, come welcome our guest!"— kept me outside.

I spun back around slowly, reluctantly, and forced a familiar smile for the stranger. "Welcome."

* * *

I followed silently as the person –about my age and height— was given a tour of the house, the same one for new guests at parties held every few weeks. I could run everything by him myself, word for word, if I were so inclined. Despite the size of our house, there weren't terribly many rooms: they were just all at least twice as large as what would even still be commodious to most. Howells liked everything to be grander, and we had the money to make it so.

I'd grown up here: this was my space, and I couldn't help but feel invaded already.

"You'll be staying in the guest bedroom, right next to Daniel's." My mother ushered him to the door.

"How long?" I'd asked before I had thought on it.

My mother turned to me with a slight glint in her eyes; this was obviously not conversation to be held in front of the guest, but one that needed to be held nonetheless, and this might've been my only chance for answers. "How long?"

"How long will he be staying?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the stranger turn in on himself a bit, dejected at my question. I felt sorry, I really did, but this was all strange to me and I didn't like being out of the loop. "Just so I can know to keep my music down."

And my mother believed my reasoning, as did the poor soul beside her. "Until summer; he'll be going to school with you. You'll be the best of friends." Unlikely, but I'd let it slide.

As the boy was getting himself situated in the guest room, the bedroom adjacent to my own, my mother came out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. "You listen, now –we're taking that boy in out of the kindness of our hearts and you will treat him with more respect than what you've been showing so far."

I nodded, half-listening. It was nothing new to get a lecture for my impropriety or whatever. They wanted me to behave, if that meant strapping me to a board to keep my posture, and cut out my tongue to keep me silent if nothing pleasant could be said. God forbid I have some more to me than the family name.

I slunk back to my room, a vessel. I was seen, treated, as nothing more than a vessel to carry the Howell respectability and reputation. Bedroom hours were my hours –and they wondered why I preferred to coop myself up alone in here? It was my happy place, my safe haven. I turned on Guitar Hero and jammed out on imaginary strings and robotic rhythms.

In between songs, I heard a soft thud in the next room. I winced, biting my lip and debating whether or not to investigate. I really wanted to be alone right now, and someone would probably look into it, right? Then, I couldn't really trust anyone but myself to do anything around here, and set my controller aside on the bed, heading out into the hallway and going to knock on the guest room door.

My knuckles rapped hesitantly against the wood. "Are you okay-?" And I realized I'd never learned our guest's name. "Can I come in?"

"Y-Yeah, come in!"

I opened the door to find the thud had been nothing more than a small suitcase toppling from the mattress to the rug. But I was here now, and he seemed to think it was a fit time to strike up conversation.

"H-Hi."

I slowly shut the door behind me. I wanted nothing more than to just bolt back to my own bedroom. But I didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**PHIL**

"My name's Dan, by the way."

He seemed so uncomfortable, and I felt horrible for making him ill at ease in his own home. I smiled as warmly as I could, trying to let him see my staying was nothing to be anxious over. "Phil; it's nice to meet you, Dan!" He looked about ready to bolt for the door, so I tried to quickly strike up some conversation –plus it would be a good way to learn about what to expect in the coming months. "Your mom told me that we'd be going to school together, and that it was a good school. Anything else about that I should know?"

He sighed, and leaned against the wall, looking drained. I didn't ask if he was alright, worried he might get offended. I hadn't been around people too often in too long. "Well, for one thing it's about forty-five minutes away, down in the city. I drive there so… I guess I'll be driving us there…" He huffed again. "Well, it'll be me, you, and Chloe, then, and unless you wanna ride in the back, she'll just have to suck it up."

I shook my head stiffly. "No, no, I don't mind sitting in back," I didn't want to impose.

"How old are you –fifteen, sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

He looked surprised. "Senior privilege, then: she's fifteen, she'll be riding in back. Plus… if we're gonna be close neighbors, we should probably get along and get to know each other. Long c-car rides could help with that." He was turning pale and shaking, and I couldn't hold my tongue longer.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good." I wanted to reach out a hand to lay on his shoulder, but that definitely would've overstepped boundaries, and I wasn't willing to ruin a chance at friendship already.

He shook his head, brushing it off. "Yeah, fine." He finally faced me again, and laughed curtly. "I could say the same about you. Are you always this translucent?"

I laughed, too. "Mostly," though it probably had some more to do with never sleeping than my natural complexion, but that would be splitting hairs. I blushed a bit. "I also kind of… passed out on the way here."

His face showed amusement at the news but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "You fainted?"

"I didn't _faint-_" except I did. "We were coming out of the building to get into the car and drive back, and it was actually my first breath of fresh air in four years." He looked floored at the news, so I went on. "At Arlington we kind of were kept in our small rooms most of the time, unless we were in class or the cafeteria, or on supervised trips to the library. They were worried that if they let us go outside, we'd try to make a run for it, or try to hurt ourselves or someone else."

Dan was cautious in his next question. "Would you have-"

"Run or hurt myself, or some unsuspecting passerby? No, of course not –but there were students who would, given the chance, and if they let someone outside, they'd have to let everyone have a chance. They couldn't risk that, so they kept us all cooped up in the building."

"Not even open windows?"

"The windows were all barred, but they could've been open. But we had heat and air-conditioning, so why would we have needed to open a window? That's what the headmistress said."

He looked as though he was still struggling to comprehend, and I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't have been able to understand such a practice, either, had I not experienced it myself, living it the last four years. "So you really had no fresh air in… how long?"

"Four years: I arrived when I was thirteen, and only just left today." I wasn't sure I'd have to go back after staying with the Howells. I'd be eighteen by then, and they'd be no longer obligated or willing to house me, and my schooling would be done after this year. But I had never learned how to take care of myself –what would I do, where would I go?

Dan's mouth hung open, and opened and closed a few times as he tried to come up with a response. "I can't imagine not going outside for four years –and this is coming from someone who coops himself up in his bedroom for all hours, given the chance!" We both laughed; the air seemed to lighten a little as we grew more at ease. "And that's why you fainted?"

I smiled fondly. "Yeah. It was just so beautiful out and I'd missed it so much, and to be out of the musty building air and out in the outdoors, breathing sweet, fresh oxygen, I guess my body and mind couldn't quite handle it. I was only out for a few moments, but it was enough to worry your parents. They fussed over me the whole way back, even though I was completely fine –more than fine, actually."

He nodded slowly, biting his lip. He looked at the clock on the wall. "Dinner will be ready soon, but I'm actually not much in the mood for steak and scalloped potatoes or whatever Chef's cooking tonight. Wanna go get some burgers?"

I jumped eagerly at the opportunity.

* * *

"I can see it in tomorrow's tabloid, Howell." Some boys about our age were passing us on the sidewalk as we left the Sloppy Joe's restaurant. "'Daniel Howell –trust fund baby— eats at local dive with new beau!'"

"He's not—"

"Cut the shit, everybody knows. Just walk your back, prissy fuck."

Dan frowned and stormed off in the opposite direction, back across the small parking lot. I followed at his heels, unsure of what else to do and worried he might leave me behind if I didn't get in before he could start the car. I didn't want to bother him by asking, but curiosity got the best of me. "Who were they?"

"Dickheads, let's go."

I leaned back in the too comfortable seat and didn't say anything else of it. He shoved his key into the ignition and the engine turned over, and he back out a little too quickly and headed toward the highway. I didn't know where we were going, but this wasn't the way we'd taken.


	4. Chapter 4

**DAN**

I didn't know where I was headed. I could've gone anywhere: I had a million places I would go always to be alone (the places you'll find when you're trying to hide from the world.) But I had this kid –er, Phil— with me. I couldn't take him anywhere like that. Those were my sacred grounds, for my presence only, and his being there would only taint them. I would never be able to go back. So I just kept us rolling down the highway. I would find somewhere for us to go eventually, even if it was just back to the house –I just needed to be away from people for a while, and… this was alone enough for now.

It was quiet and the weather was nice; the sun would be setting soon. I turned to face him a moment. He seemed to be in that middle ground where you're obviously tired but not really falling asleep. I should've been watching the road but I swear I'd yet to see him blink. Did he just sleep with his eyes open? I turned up the music, blasting some trashy pop song I hadn't asked for, and he roused to alertness. Maybe he had been sleeping, creepy as that would've been. I smirked as he seemed to just now be figuring out what was going on, where we were. "Sleepy?"

He coughed and shook his head –my eyes were back on the road but I caught him out of my peripheral. I could hear him much easier than I could see him. "Not really. Just zoned out for a minute, I guess."

"I bet." There was a long moment of silence, and really, I wasn't in the mood for conversation, but he was fidgeting uncomfortably, which only made me more uncomfortable. "Could you sit still a sec? I'm looking for an exit." He nodded mutely, settling into the seat and clearly struggling not to move anymore (my eyes were completely unfocused from the road, which I definitely wouldn't encourage, but something about him was just way more interesting than asphalt.)

I hadn't meant to snap at him, and we had had a nice –if kind of awkward— meal back at Joe's, so I figured I could cut the kid some slack. "You're the first person in a while to not force conversation on me." I wasn't sure if I'd meant to say it aloud, but it was out there now. I peeked over at my side mirror and caught him smiling softly, along with the next exit sign. This would be the last chance to head home for a while, so I made the offer out of consideration, since he still seemed tired. "Last call for heading back to the mansion: what do you say?"

"Did you have anywhere else you wanted to go?"

I shrugged; "Not really." He sank back into the seat. "You really look tired, though."

He smirked a little. "I haven't been out this much in four years, what would you expect?"

I huffed out a laugh, watching the road now. "You got me there." The next exit was fifteen miles away, and I really didn't want to go home to Mom and Dad and the brat. But it was a Thursday evening, and I would have to make it through school tomorrow, along with showing the new kid around. Hopefully he'd catch on quickly and wouldn't be tagging along with me everywhere I went. Likeable as he was, I wasn't exactly a people person. Defeated, I got on the ramp.

* * *

"What do you mean you already ate?"

"Phil and I went to get some food while we were out. I was showing him around town."

She could've then turned to Phil, who was standing right there with me and suffering through this interrogation almost as much as I was. She could've asked him how he liked it, or if he had fun on his first afternoon out in his teenage life. It wasn't much of an outing, but he seemed to enjoy himself and probably would've actually liked to talk about it had I not already told him not to mention where we'd gone. But she'd rather just chew me out for not being around for the "family dinner." I must've missed when family dinners became a thing in our house.

"And what were you eating?"

"What does it matter?"

"Where did you go?"

"Why do you care?"

"Answer your mother!" Dad piped in, though I had no motivation to listen.

Mom went on. "I care because you could've gotten yourself into trouble! Media vultures are just waiting for a Howell to screw up somehow and put it on the cover society page."

"And they've pegged me to be the one to screw up." Big surprise, Mother; we'd only been over this a hundred times already.

"And can you blame them? Look out you, going out dressed like a hoodlum. And-" she leaned in and sniffed my collar, "have you been smoking?"

"I'm sure that would make the front page," I laughed.

"Answer me, Daniel."

"No, I wasn't smoking, was I?" I turned to Phil, who nodded, and I nodded after him. "See? And he's too innocent to lie."

"Hey, I-"

I held my hand up to silence him for now. "Anyway, can we please get past this? I have a shit ton of work to do for class and have to get up early."

Mom was still fuming, but let it go slowly. "Go do your work. And make sure Phil's caught up."

Great, I was babysitting. "Will do, Mother."

* * *

I take back what I said about babysitting. "Did you remember to round to the nearest tenth of the figure?" The kid was smarter than I was.

"Uh, yeah, I did." With that, I had one assignment down, and two more to go. I crossed this from my agenda, and put it away so I wouldn't forget it. "Ugh, math is so boring!" I groaned, flopping backward on my mattress. I rolled back and forth on my blanket, curling into a ball and willing the homework to do itself.

Phil, who was seated on the floor at the foot of the bed, turned and leaned against it. Over my knees I watched him trace patterns into my sheet. "I know it's not the best, but it's almost finished. I'll help, come on, almost there!"

His optimism was almost sickening. "I'll just tell the teachers I had a very important function to go to. I swear they take it as a viable excuse every fucking time, I can't tell you how much I've gotten away with just by saying, 'I'm the heir to a huge company, and have more important things to do.' I make myself sound all official and noble and they eat it up like the last slice of cake. Every, damn, time."

He laughed, and laid his head down a moment. I nudged him with my foot. "Don't fall asleep on me."

"I won't," he grinned into the sheet. He picked his head back up and pushed his messy hair to one side.

"You really need a haircut," I laughed, taking in the mussed mousy brown mop on his head. "If you're gonna be out in the public eye, you need to tidy up a bit." I didn't mean to come off as rude, but this was a tough reality of high society –one I'd definitely rather not embrace; I actually envied his hair a bit, not styled to perfection like mine had to be. "My mom will probably take you to get it cut."

"I haven't seen an actual barber in four years, give me a break." He was smiling a bit, so I had to figure what I said hadn't actually bothered him like I'd worried it had.

It was sort of strange how comfortable I was with him, when everyone else at parties and school and stuff like that, I'd be too on edge to talk to anyone, knowing they'd see right through to the real, awkward me. I shifted a bit uneasily, trying to get used to the unusual feeling.

He didn't notice; he was playing with a strand of his hair. "If I'm getting it cut, do you think I could get it dyed, too? I need something darker to keep me from blending into walls."

I laughed a bit. "Around here you'll pray to disappear." I know I do.


	5. Chapter 5

**PHIL**

It turned out nighttime at the Howell home wasn't all that different from it was at Arlington –the room was more commodious and comfortable, or at least was supposed to be. It was set up nice and I really did appreciate the comforts but honestly, after all those on that lumpy little cot, this was feeling more strange and uncomfortable than was probably warranted. But night was night, and I still didn't sleep –not ever.

I stared out the window, which (very unfortunately) did not face east, and I would not watch the sunrise from here. The thought made me anxious as I stared out into the night. It was near dawn, and I could feel the sky growing lighter on the opposite side of the house. I considered crossing for a little while, but thought better of it when I probably wouldn't be able to find my way back. The place was huge; I would need an escort to direct me to the bathroom.

Dan must've been surprised to come in and find me already awake. "Uh –sorry, I thought I'd have to wake you up." I smiled through the dim lighting to try to ease his nerves at stumbling in. I didn't tell him I never slept. It wasn't important.

* * *

"I'll have to loan you a uniform for today; make sure you pick your own up from the front office, okay?" Dan handed me a navy blue polo and khaki slacks, and went to go get changed himself. I pulled my pajamas off and attempted to get ready for the day –but Dan's pants were too long, and his shirt was a bit too small (his shoulders were a bit narrower than mine, and his shirt fit very uncomfortably.) A bit disheartened but not defeated, I sucked it up and put on some socks and a nice pair of shoes I'd found under the bed in my sleeplessness.

I met Dan and Chloe downstairs in the kitchen: Dan was eating toast, Chloe was eating nothing, texting. I smiled but received nothing in return, which was okay. Maybe they just needed some coffee. I found the high-tech coffee brewer on the counter and tried to figure it out. "Anyone want a cup?"

Dan seemed jolted from concentration. "Uh, no, thanks." Chloe didn't respond to the offer.

In the end, I didn't figure out how to work the thing, which was just as well. I didn't really need it.

Dan laughed at my hopelessness. "Not used to stupid gadgets, huh?"

"I'm just learning! I've never had to brew my own coffee, either…"

"Neither have I; the machine's automatic."

"Is it?"

He got off the stool and moved around the island to help me out. He pulled something out of the cupboard and stuck it in the top, pressed a button, and a moment later, there was coffee! It wasn't incomprehensible, but it was strange. "Why don't people make their own? What if there's not automated machined one day, and everyone who wants coffee has to brew it by hand? Will the population go without its caffeine fix, and go to ruin?"

Dan laughed more genuinely this time, and I couldn't help but smile. He had a really good, really happy laugh when he really was happy. "You think too much…" he mumbled, going back to his breakfast. He was probably right. I made myself a bowl of cereal: sweet familiarity!

* * *

"Get out, princess."

"Suck a dick, Daniel."

"No, but I'm sure you will!"

I could only observe this strange interaction as we dropped Chloe off at school. "I… I don't have siblings. Is this normal?"

Dan laughed again, though not as fully as before, shaking his head. "You're really out of touch with the world, aren't you?"

I had to protest. "No, I'm actually pretty worldly for someone who's spent the last four years of their young life locked away. I had a computer, and internet connection (even though they tracked our web history.) I'm sorry I don't understand instant coffee makers and harsh conversation between siblings."

"I'm just kidding, jeez. Maybe I'm a little too mean sometimes, but she gets what she dishes out. Brother- and sisterhood is a two-way thing, one gets what one does. She's a bratty little bitch to me, I'm the dickhead older brother right back. We don't hate each other, not at all. It's just how we function." He shrugged. "It would probably be how my whole damn family would function if it wasn't for proprietary shit. We love and can't stand each other."

I could only nod, accepting it as a family dynamic. "I knew a lot of families who acted like that toward each other," I quipped, hoping to be relevant somehow.

We stopped at a red light; Dan didn't say any more on the matter.

"So ours is an all boys' school?"

"Yeah, and it's still kinda far away. Why I can't just live in one of the dorms, I don't know. Fuck knows we can afford it, I don't know why they'd rather keep me at home."

"Are you okay?"

He seemed taken aback. "Huh? Yeah, why?"

"You seem tense."

"I hate school."

"So do I, but you just seem particularly anxious. Is there… something you wanna get out? I'm- I'm here to listen." I was sinking into the passenger seat.

He sighed. "No, not really."

I nodded, accepting that he didn't want to talk right now. "If you change your mind…"

"Yeah."

* * *

We were running late. It was five minutes until the first class started, but there was no school in sight. Traffic was a mess, and Dan was only growing tenser. I reached out and touched his shoulder, which he didn't shrug away, and I took that as a good sign.

"Fuck this, we're not going." I went wide-eyed at his sudden decision to ditch school, but he was turning off onto a side road before I could question it. "If anyone asks, you had a great first day, everyone loved you because you're a golden child who's way too nice, I failed another exam, and we all live happily ever after."

"Okay."


	6. Chapter 6

**DAN**

"Don't look down."

"I-I won't."

I couldn't see him, but the terror trembling in his voice was enough. I tried not to laugh; really, his fear wasn't funny, but his adamancy kind of was. "You didn't have to come up here with me. You could've waited in the car, I'd be back eventually."

"I'm not scared!" Bullshit, you're not.

The Abandoned Water Tower was halfway between the City and home. It was one of my many places I could hide for hours, a personal favorite for when I skipped school. Unlike some of the other places I'd escape to, this one probably wouldn't really be ruined by bringing Phil here; and from what I knew in the short time I'd known him, he was cool, he could be trusted with the secret.

It was pretty low by water tower standards, but I was already about thirty or forty feet in the air, and not quite to the top yet. Phil was following behind me, probably gripping to the rusty old ladder for dear life as he willed himself to join me inside. "Almost there."

I heard a yelp and had to twist my head down and around to make sure he hadn't fallen. He was pressed tight to the rungs, clinging helplessly. He must've lost his footing a moment, and freaked out. I winced; even if I could be of any help, like, down on the ground, there wasn't a hell of a lot I could do up here. I wished for a moment I'd gone after him instead: even if I wouldn't be able to do shit if he fell, it might've put him at ease to know there was a support bringing up the rear.

He didn't move for a long moment. "Are you okay?" I didn't get a response. I frowned, shaking my head and climbing up again. "Almost there…"

At length I reached the hole –the door had rusted and fallen to the ground long ago— and carefully climbed inside, around the jagged edge. I looked down to see he was stuck in the same place. "Are you alright?" I called, a bit louder than before, briefly wondering how far the wind would carry it.

"I-I'm fine."

I scoffed. "No, you're not. Do you wanna climb down? I'll follow."

"No…" I thought he probably really meant yes, but going back down was a lot scarier than coming up. Climbing, you're fighting gravity; descending, you're gently flinging yourself to its mercy.

"Okay. You'll be okay, just… grab hold of the next bar." I couldn't help much beyond that, coaching him through the rest of the way. It probably wouldn't do much, but I honestly just hoped he wouldn't slip and fall. The height would be more than enough to kill him. That would be horrid.

I watched as he tentatively took the next rung tight in his fist, body still pressed tight against the ladder but slowly, very slowly making some progress. "Okay, good," I called down, trying to be encouraging. "You're an idiot, you know, trying to follow me up here when you're afraid of heights. Now lift your foot to the next one up."

He followed instruction a bit less hesitantly this time. "I'm not scared of heights," he squeaked, so quiet I almost didn't hear him. "I'm scared of falling."

"No shit. Now come on, up you go." He was maybe ten feet below me. "Baby steps: just like how you got as far as you did. You're well over halfway up, don't wuss out on me now." I laughed dryly. My attempts to lighten the mood were pretty weak right now, even by my standards.

The next few minutes were filler made up of very slow climbing and not-so motivational phrases. When he got close enough, "I'm gonna grab onto your shirt and help you up," so I wouldn't freak him out when I suddenly grasped and pulled him. In one final determined push, he flung himself up into the tower and collapsed with a yelp on the cold metal floor.

I laughed, actually amused by his kind of, sort of bravery and pride –it was good to know he still had some dignity. "Fun, right?" I grinned over to where he still lay on the floor. I heard a quiet groan and the smile quickly faded. "You okay? I know it's kinda high and yeah, there was a very good chance you would've plummeted to your death but…" Not fucking helpful, Daniel. I nudged his shoulder, only to hear another quiet noise of… pain? A thought hit me. "Shit, why would you-?"

The floor of the entrance had grown jagged and rusted over years ago, and it couldn't be ignored without consequence. "You have to be more fucking careful, you ass." I turned him over. The pants I'd leant him had been torn through by the razor sharp ledge, leaving a series of long bloody scratches half the length of his right thigh. I looked up to his face to find him wincing in pain. "Shit."

"What was that?" he asked, moving to timidly press a hand to his wounded leg. I pushed it away to spare him the god awful sting.

"The rusted edge of the tower, you brave fuck," I laughed humorlessly. I was kind of worried. There was no way we could stay here now, but would he be alright to climb back down? "I think we better go. Are you… okay?"

He seemed a little disheartened by the injury but altogether okay, and since he didn't answer, I had to assume he would be.

"I'll go first, then?"

* * *

"You're gonna have to get that cleaned up as soon as we get back." I gestured to the cuts on his leg with one hand while the other remained on the steering wheel. "We learned about tetanus in biology a few weeks ago. Don't want you getting an infection."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see him nod and fidget, picking at the torn edges of his pants. "Sorry," he muttered softly, and I brushed it off immediately.

"I have plenty of other pairs, don't worry about it." We pulled into the driveway and the garage. "We'll have to be quiet. The housekeepers work while the house is empty, and they're all rats. We can't get caught cutting class."

Phil nodded again and followed me inside, sneaking up to the south wing with the bedrooms. He was limping, but holding up pretty well, and easily got settled on his bed.

"I have to go get Chloe now, already running late. Don't make a sound. It looks like they've already tidied up in here so there's no reason to come in, so don't give them one. Okay?"

"Got it."

I smiled and headed back to the car to go get the little brat from school. So far, this new arrangement wasn't so bad.


	7. Chapter 7

A human being can only live a few days without sleep. This is a cruel biological fact from which, despite my conditioning against it, I wasn't an exception. And those nights, the ones that I actually have no choice but to sleep, are the worst.

I was lying in my unfamiliar bed, sweating and shaking, staring up with wide eyes at the blank ceiling. I started to throw my head from side to side in a desperate attempt to stay awake, but it was in vain. I wanted to get up and pace about the room, or take a walk through the enormous house and all the corridors it had to offer, but my whole body seized up in sleep, and I couldn't move. I could only feel consciousness from the neck up, and even that was slipping away. I started crying as my eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. "No…"

_Darkness. A muffled thud. Footsteps. Door squeaking open. Light creeping in. Hand pulling me up. Another on my face. "Good boy."_

"Phil?"

I must've woken rather loudly. When my eyes shot open, the light was on, and Dan was standing at the end of my bed. I tried to calm down but couldn't. The images, the horrible sensations, were gone, but the terror remained and I couldn't make it go away, not really.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded frantically and sent him out, turning over onto my side, facing away from him so he wouldn't see just how not alright I really was. There was a pause, then retreating footsteps. The door opened and closed, and I was alone with my nightmares.

* * *

I was silent the whole ride to school that morning, which was mostly silent, anyway. Every once in a while, a good song would come on, and Dan would turn the volume up only to turn it back down when it was over, or he and Chloe would take stabs at one another before falling quiet again. I leaned my head against the window, looking out but not really seeing anything, which would be a shame if there was something to see.

We dropped Chloe off and actually had to go to class today, so headed toward our own school. Dan had manipulated a way around the bustling morning traffic, and seemed quite proud of himself, so I tried to be proud for him, too. He was gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter as we drew closer and closer to the campus.

"Are you okay?"

He scoffed. "I could ask you the same." He could, but he didn't. And the rest of the ride went without another word of it.

The campus was unusually green for a city school, which I really appreciated. I considered even skipping a class or two to go climb a tree instead, but Mr. and Mrs. Howell were paying for me to attend this obviously prestigious academy, so I would make the most of it.

The classes were difficult my first day. Education was apparently subpar at Arlington, but I was considered pretty bright so I could probably manage here.

I had a math class with Dan just before lunch. I was sat in the back row, as was he. No one was sitting between us, and I could see him easily out of my peripheral, and curiosity had me doing so often. He was huddled in the corner and didn't speak, hunched over his notebooks and fidgeting when he wasn't writing notes or doodling.

"Mr. Howell?"

Dan's head shot up, staring up at the teacher. "Yes..?"

"Could you please come up and solve the equations I already asked you twice to do?" I frowned; if he'd asked, I hadn't heard it, either.

Dan seemed very hesitant, but managed to slowly pry himself up out of his seat and shuffle to the front of the room. Even from the back I could see his hand shaking as he plucked up a piece of chalk, and it took him a long moment just hovering the equation before he started to work on it. His handwriting was crude from his trembling, and I winced. Before the teacher could tell him whether it was right or wrong, Dan had moved back to his seat. He was right, but that didn't seem to ease him any. I made a mental note to ask about it.

* * *

"What was that?" I asked carefully.

We'd skipped lunch to go climb trees instead. I hadn't expected Dan to join me when I told him where I was going, but he said he didn't want me to get lost on my way to my next class, which was fair enough. I was a few branches higher than he was, perched on a thick shoot and staring up through the leaves as the sunlight crept through.

"Thought you were afraid of heights," he laughed, holding onto the trunk.

"When forty feet high on an abandoned water tower? Yes. But sitting fifteen feet up in a tree? I mean, I've climbed trees a hundred times before."

"Is that how you got that bruise, from falling out of a tree?"

I flinched. "What bruise?"

"The one on your hip." He gestured to where my school shirt rode up a little, too short. I had a red mark blemishing there, visible just above the waist of my pants. I nodded.

At length, Dan joined me on the higher branch, sitting next to me. I smiled at him a little, before facing forward again. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Why were you shaking so much in class? You got the answer right, and it wasn't easy, you should've been proud of yourself!" I nudged him a little with my shoulder.

He huffed out a quiet laugh. "It's nothing. Having an off day, I guess."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, sure."

Whatever Dan might not have been telling me, I couldn't make him answer honestly. In the end, we still didn't know each other more than a few days, and I couldn't expect him to trust me with his secrets: I didn't entrust in him mine. I scooted a bit closer to him, smiling and catching him smile back. We sat up there in comfortable silence until we had to part ways for class.

* * *

I was at relative ease again that night, because after getting some shut-eye the night before (however little) I could make myself stay up, though the cycle would repeat again soon. I'd given it two or three days before I'd succumb to sleep again, and the nightmares would return. But I couldn't let myself think of that in advance. I crossed the room and opened my window, staring up at the stars until sunrise.


	8. Chapter 8

**DAN**

The first time I could hear Phil crying out in his sleep was the first time since we'd met that I remembered, yeah, he had come from a home for the psychologically damaged. I couldn't do much then because when I'd gone to help, he sent me away, and if he wanted to be alone I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. But two weeks later and it happened four more times, and every time the same: I'd hear him, I'd debate whether or not to go check on him and decide that I should, he'd wake up in a state, I'd ask if he was alright when I knew he wasn't, he'd tell me to go away so he could think I didn't know he wasn't okay, and I'd leave. But Phil was my friend and I couldn't let that go on.

"Dad?" I wasn't supposed to enter my parents' office without their summons, but this felt important enough to belay that rule. I found them both there late at night, working at their own personalized desks. They usually weren't around at this hour. "No party or banquet to go to?"

He sighed, obviously not missing that I'd broken the little rule but also that I didn't care. Too tired, it seemed, to argue, he just answered. "No, not tonight, but there will be more of those soon enough." He pushed something deeper under a stack of papers. "What's on your mind, son?"

"I, um." This suddenly felt wrong, like I was betraying Phil's trust by going around him for answers that were maybe too personal to be going around. But I wasn't getting anything out of him, and I wasn't letting the issue go. "I was wondering what you found out about Phil before you brought him here."

He scoffed, as if my question was ridiculous. My cheeks were heating up at the thought it might be. "What do you mean, what did we find out?"

"I mean… um, you know he's from a, uh-… mental hospital-school-thing, right..?" (For lack of a better term; I really didn't know what to call the place by anything other than its name.)

"Yes, so?" As if it were the most insignificant detail.

My mother was the one who decided to placate me. "We found out that he would behave himself, wouldn't be destructive or disruptive. That was all we really needed to know."

I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Is he supposed to be, uh, medicated?" I asked quietly –it was a very off chance that Phil, asleep upstairs, would hear me, but I wasn't risking it.

"They said it was an option," Dad quipped. "Anti-anxiety medication, and mild tranquilizers to help him sleep."

"And you opted out." Why was I not surprised?

"He's fine, Daniel," Mom insisted. "He's a lot better behaved than you were at his age."

"Glad to hear you looked so well into this kid you brought to live here for ten months." My sarcasm couldn't possibly be missed, even by them.

"What do you mean?"

"We're the same age, Mother."

"Daniel-" Dad stood up and put a hand on my shoulder; I resisted the urge to cringe and shrug it away. "Your little friend is fine, don't worry. You should know that better than either of us, with how much time you two spend together."

I wanted to tell him that I did know Phil better than the two of them, and in knowing him I knew that no, he was not fine. He was waking up screaming every couple of nights, and pretended he was okay. That was the worst: that he thought he couldn't talk to anyone about it. I didn't say anything, though; they wouldn't care.

He removed his hand, to my great relief. "Just don't go getting _too_ close." His face was hard; I knew what he meant by it. I nodded stiffly. "Well, I'll be going to get some shut-eye, then. Julia, will you join me?" My mother stood and stepped around her desk, and they left.

I waited until I was sure they were gone for the night before moving behind my dad's desk and shuffling through the pile of documents to find what he'd pushed out of view when I came in. At the bottom, I found a newspaper, which alone wouldn't have been anything significant. It was turned to the society page, where it made my stomach twist.

_'Howells Charitably Take In Troubled Child'_

I read further. I wanted to puke. I left the office with every intention of doing so.

* * *

"Dan?"

I looked up from my lunch. Phil was sitting next to me on the thick branch, smiling softly. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, wanted to tell him, but no words came out. They caught in my throat and I only smiled instead; my silence was rewarded with a broader smile and a content sigh.

"You spaced out for a while. Are you okay?"

I nodded mutely, taking another bite of my sandwich so my quietness wouldn't be so awkward. I swallowed, and had to say something before he thought I was being weird. "Your hair looks good." (So much for not being weird.)

He grinned and touched it a little; it was shorter than it had been when he arrived, and my mother had indulged him in dying it jet black like he'd wanted. "Thanks." He opened up his bag, school-approved and provided by my parents, but with his own personal touch –cat buttons, namely. They were unnaturally adorable. "I'm keeping a running tally of all the times I'm called emo or scene. It's six and three right now; I guess the 'scene' thing is still gaining momentum here."

What was weird about Phil was he was pretty worldly for someone who'd spent the last four years literally locked away. I knew it was because he'd had a laptop and wifi at the school; he was internet savvy, knew what was going on in the world, and all the memes and web slang. But what was really weird about Phil was that he wasn't embittered or sarcastic like I knew the rest of the teenage internet population to be, and that's not even including how he'd been in a psych home his whole teenage life, and (if the obvious nightmares were anything to go by) had some real demons. He was the happiest fucked up person I'd ever known and I sort of loved that about him.

He scrunched up his nose. "I don't really feel like going to my next class."

I had to laugh. "Oh, I'm a terrible influence, aren't I?"

He chuckled too, and nudged me. That first day wasn't the only time we'd cut class, but it was the last visit to the Water Tower. "I think I have a substitute… and it's my last class of the day."

I grinned at him and dropped out of the tree, landing –rather painfully— on my feet. I turned back to him as he let himself fall, landing a little more gracefully, though probably just as pained. "Your ankles okay?"

He laughed and nodded. "Yeah. Do you have any more classes to go to?"

"Yeah, but fuck it. Let's go somewhere."


	9. Chapter 9

**PHIL**

"I've never been to a big city before," I murmured, staring up at the majesty of the skyscrapers towering above me. Dan nudged my shoulder, walking close alongside me. 'Don't stray, don't cross the street unless I give the say-so, don't let me lose you,' were the instructions he'd given me, and I planned to follow to a T. The last thing we needed during our brief romp around town was to get separated, and lost. Dan knew his way around here pretty well –I had to stay close.

"Are you excited to be here, then?" Dan asked. I caught a small smile out of the corner of my eye. "I thought you might want to get out a bit, breathe the fumes of the urban sprawl." He exaggerated a deep breath and let it out just as theatrically, and I laughed. We turned a corner and entered the tourist district, which was amazing. I'd never seen so many lights and colors before.

There were more people on the sidewalks now, which made me nervous; I didn't realize I'd sort of pressed myself against Dan's side until he cleared his throat, bringing my attention to it and making me jump back, red-faced and shaking. "I-I'm sorry. I know you said to stay close, but not that close."

He laughed nervously and lifted my chin to look at him. I felt his hand trembling and saw fervor in his eyes. "D-Don't worry, I don't mind. You're timid in the crowd, I get it. Really… I do. But you won't get lost; I won't let you get lost." He linked his arm with mine, and the flush of my cheeks kept up for a different reason now.

The sky was overcast and dreary, but we didn't let it take away from our afternoon out. We didn't stay in Times Square –I learned it was called— for long, and kept on walking northward. We'd probably have to turn back soon. I pulled back a little, but Dan tugged me forward. "Dan, it's gonna be time to go get Chloe soon—"

"Not yet, though. I want to show you something." He was still shaking, but it was dying down the further and further we got from the crowd, which would later get me thinking. But then, defeated, I let him keep pulling at my arm as he picked up the pace to a near jog. I managed to keep up, but not easily as we went faster and faster until—

"Welcome to Central Park, Phil."

If the campus had indulged my love of greenness in the city, the enormous park in which I came to be walking through absolutely spoiled me. Everywhere was lush and beautiful, even under the gray sky, and seemed to go on and on forever. I thought I'd been lucky when it came to the concourse amid the stone school buildings, but this was just unfair. It was my first time in a park in years, and I didn't know when I'd ever be able to return. I'd bug Dan with requests to drive me all the way here just to bask in the warmth of Nature. I had to enjoy it while I was here –and not forget to appreciate Dan's bringing me here.

And with that in mind, and no rational state to stop myself, I flung my arms around my friend, holding tight, face pressed into his shoulder as I murmured a string of 'thank you's' into his shirt. I felt him tense at first, then relax into the embrace, and I thought better of myself then. I went to pull away, but he had started to hug back, a hand running slowly, carefully up and down my back. And I eased into his touch, a gentler smile on my face. He was warm; I didn't want to let go, and with his arms willingly around me, I had to reason to.

I finally pulled my head back, and as our eyes met, a drop of rain hit my nose. I looked up to the sky to see more drops falling, scattered at first, then more steadily. I grinned: the day couldn't have possibly been any better.

Dan laughed and at length let me go, flinching away from the rain. He reached out to grab a hold of my arm. "Come on, Phil, we need to get somewhere dry before it really starts pouring!" He tugged but I wouldn't budge.

"Dan, this is the first time I've felt rain in four years, and maybe it's stupid to think so much of it, but I can't let this opportunity go!"

"You can get wet in the shower, let's go!"

My eyes pleaded with him to leave me be, let me stay where I stand in the rain as it started to pick up. People in the park were running for cover, and Dan would go too, if not for his unwillingness to leave me, and I refused to move. "Please, Dan…" The rain felt incredible already on my skin, raising goosebumps with every drop. Dan was shivering in a breeze that I hardly felt. "You can go take cover, I'll be fine. I'll just be a few minutes. I just need a few minutes."

He sighed softly, and sat down on the dampening grass. "Let me know when you're done." He sounded impatient, but when I looked back down at him, he was wearing a small, encouraging smile. He leaned back against my legs, and I turned my face back up to the sky, reveling in the water that fell on my cheeks.

It was the most refreshing sensation I could remember, excitement swelling in my chest as I heaved in the humid air. My hair was starting to stick to my forehead and scalp, growing so laden with moisture as it started to pour down that it dripped to the wet ground below me. I shook, shuddered, struggled to take it all in. It was a silly thing, I knew, to be so in awe over a simple rain shower, but it was important to me, and Dan staying right by even as he got wet himself made it feel just a little less silly. For once, I felt like something that I really needed wasn't stupid. Dan was giving me hope that I might matter.

* * *

As the weather started to calm, and a flood of rainwater died down to a drizzle, I told Dan we could go, and helped him to his feet. He was sopping wet and so cold, but still found the energy to pull me along, out of the park and down the street. We came to a store on the corner, and there sought shelter, in case the rain started to fall harder again. We didn't rest again until we reached a secluded back corner.

I watched Dan shivering as he pulled a sweatshirt from his backpack, and wrapped it around my shoulders. "No, I'm the one who made you wait, I'm the one who got you wet." I took it off and tried to hand it back to him, but he refused.

"I could've gotten out of the rain." He touched my arm, his touch unusually warm, and smirked, suspicions confirmed. "Ah. See, you're ice cold and sopping wet. You'll get sick if you don't get something warm on." The air in the store was cool and made me shiver. He frowned and took the clothing back, returning it to where he'd put it, and holding it in place, holding me by the shoulders.

We were standing so close I felt his breath on my cheeks –they heated up accordingly, pulling any warmth from the rest of me. I looked up into his eyes and saw a softness I'd never seen in him, not once. We'd been friendly for weeks now, but I'd never seen him look at me, or anyone, like this. The corner of his lips twitched, the shallow indent of a dimple barely visible. I will probably never know what possessed me in that moment, as I gathered my bearings, and leaned in to kiss it. My lips barely brushed the corners of his own. Reality hit me quickly, a hard blow that had me reeling back, embarrassed. My eyes turned themselves determinedly downcast.

But he lifted my chin again, and just a moment later, his lips were on mine. It was a spark that soothed into a warmth, and being as cold and damp as I was, I melted into it easily.


	10. Chapter 10

**DAN**

We'd lost track of time, and failed to pick Chloe up the moment school ended. We got her home, of course, though I honestly would've preferred throwing her out the window to rid myself of her bitching halfway there. And being the –… I don't even have a word for this betrayal, predictable though it may have been— that she is, she immediately ratted us out, and we starting getting chewed out.

"I pay good money to send you to that school," –_money I'm sure you don't have to spare, of course—_ "and you go and cut class? I've spoken to your instructors: they say this is far from the first time. What the hell are you thinking, Daniel? Are you really feeling like such a rebel to risk your education and your family's reputation?"

Phil and I were sat down next to each other, though further apart than I'd like after our little escapade this afternoon. Dad was towering over us, speaking melodramatically in his loud booming voice; Mom was sitting behind him, filing her nails and generally disengaged; Chloe was god knows where, probably hiding in her room like the coward she is. I stared straight ahead at nothing, defiant and determined not to listen to what this bellowing man had to say. I caught Phil out of the corner of my eye, head turned down to avoiding my father's glare. Yes, we'd both done wrong, theoretically; but I wanted to reach out and take his hand, run my thumb over his bony knuckles and lift them to my lips to kiss them, sooth him –but I couldn't. I couldn't let my Mom or Dad know –especially in their present anger— what we'd done in detail: the city, the park, the kiss –all they had to know was that we'd teamed and cut out of our classes after lunch. They didn't need to, and didn't want to, know anything else.

Dad ran his red and sweaty palm over his redder and sweatier face, exasperated by his own exasperation. I'd done nothing since coming home but coolly sit and pretend to listen, and he was a gullible man when it came to my behavior. I was a creature of black-and-white in his eye, an angel or devil, and more often the latter. But despite my earlier misbehavior, now I seemed to be in a pliant state –played purposely, so he'd notice and be fooled by it. He seemed to be winding down; I looked forward to heading back up to the quiet of my bedroom.

"There's a banquet this Saturday," he started ominously, catching half my attention. I brought my eyes to almost meet his face; Phil's head lifted slightly, though he remained in submission. The fact that his gentle nature urged him to submit to this well-tailored beast of a man fanned a fire in my heart. "Here's the deal for you two. Daniel, you need to behave yourself, and socialize for once instead of holing yourself away like you always do. You're destroying the family's image with your social ineptitude. And you-" He turned to Phil without sparing him the dignity of his own name. "If you're going to stay here the next few months, you need to make a good impression on our friends and colleagues. They know that situation you've come from, but they're a ruthless bunch and won't show leniency for your behavior."

"And if they can't behave themselves?" Mom asked, as if scripted to prompt voicing of a decision my father had made prior.

"Then…" He seemed less uncertain, more pausing for dramatic effect, and I was all but all ears. "Then he won't be staying with us longer; and by Sunday evening he'll be back where he came from."

My heart dropped to my stomach, but the sudden heaviness couldn't help me from rising from my seat in a fit. "You can't do that!"

He pressed me back down into my seat with a heavy hand on my shoulder. "I can and I will, if it's called for. In the meantime," he gestured to Phil, "to your room. And you, son, there's too many nice things of yours in your bedroom, and it'd be dumb to send you there. Until further noticed, you'll be locked out of there, and will sleep on the sofa, here. Off with you now. Saturday's not long from now –in these next five days, you may want to get your act together in advance –both of you."

* * *

I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned on the sofa, and grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut, instead. This wasn't fair. I couldn't let my parents send Phil back. In part, my worry was of fear to lose him: we seemed to be moving toward something more than friendship, and I didn't want that ripped away so suddenly, when he made me happy like no one could. That was the more selfish reason. Otherwise, the probably more substantial part, was from knowing how unhealthy an environment the school was –from what little he told me, seemed too much like a prison!— and I couldn't send such a sweet soul off to be broken further. Would he be able to get away at eighteen, in a few months, were he sent back now? If so, where would he go? He was bright, and though apparently (though not all that apparently) damaged, fully functioning, and could survive given the proper start. Would they just open their gates, 'Be free, now,' and send him on his way into a world he didn't entirely understand (as someone his age ought to survive)?

There was no doubt in my mind that I was falling quickly in love with him. Should he stay through the end of the school year, I'd be eighteen then, too, and we could escape together. We could work part-time and go to college the other part-of-the-time, and start our lives like any young couple could. That was all we would need: a head start, with a small apartment and a budding education, and a job or two each at nine dollars an hour. It wouldn't be easy; we'd scrape along, but we'd get by. But if he were torn from me any sooner, what hope could I have to salvage that dream?

I couldn't stay down here, and needed to see him. I headed upstairs and briefly checked to find that my door was indeed locked –great. I went to his door, the bedroom next to mine, but heard speaking inside. I pressed my ear to the wood to hear it more clearly, and yes, he was talking. A monologue to himself, it seemed, until I realized –I'd know the sound anywhere, and from a hint dropped in his speech— that he was recording a video, speaking to a camera, and indirectly an audience. His voice was unusually cheerful for how poorly the evening had gone, but maybe he was more thinking about our afternoon together –I hoped so. He was talking about it anyway, at which I couldn't contain my smile.

I moved to sit with my back to the door, smile softening as I just relaxed into the sound of his voice.

And then something hit me.

I knew that voice, and from sometime before we'd met.

I turned and knocked quickly on the door, scrambling to my feet before he could open it up. "Dan?" He looked tired, but smiled.

"Hi." I shifted my weight from foot to foot anxiously. "Mind if I come in?" He didn't answer verbally, but stepped aside and gestured me in, yawning. I noticed his shirt lift a bit as he stretched his arms over his head, and I tried not to blush at the pale sliver of skin revealed at his hips. I looked around the room. It was the same as I'd seen it before he'd moved in, obviously hesitant to make it a bit more homely for himself. I wish he could relax here, it being his home right now as much as it was mine. I wanted him to know it.

"What brings you here so late?"

I hadn't even noticed the time until he asked, and saw on the clock that it was near midnight. I brushed the hour aside. "I, uh, I heard you talking."

"From downstairs?" He seemed worried the whole house could hear him rambling (in the most wonderful sense) to a camera. I was quick to settle him.

"No, I came… I came to see you." I hid my reddening face for a moment. "I heard it through your door, but barely. I did… Do you have a YouTube channel?" He nodded mutely, unsure of what I might've been getting at and maybe afraid I would judge his response. "How long for?"

"A few years..?" he mused, more at ease now. "Been posting for four years, I think?"

"Can I see?"

He nodded again and brought the site up on his computer. I looked it over. The name rang a bell, but not any recent one, so I searched deeper. I quickly glanced over a disproportionately small subscriber count for his number of videos. "I make videos, too," I mentioned, almost in passing, as I determinedly searched my mind for an answer to correspond with what I saw here. Taken aback for a moment by my own stupidity at not trying this first, I went to the list of videos themselves, and sorted to see the oldest ones first. And that's where it all came back. I felt my eyes burning, though not watering, and I turned to him.

He looked a bit perplexed at my reaction, not knowing he'd made some of the first videos I'd watched, one of the primary reasons I'd wanted to make my own in the first place. It made me a bit sick to know that in as short a time as I'd been doing this myself, I had more than double as many viewers as he had, when he'd been my idol for a time. And he was an idol I'd forgotten for a time. He didn't know any of that, and at that moment, it seemed silly and sentimental to explain. So I didn't.

I showed him my own channel, and he wanted to watch some of my videos, which he laughed at and seemed to enjoy. We went back to his channel and watched some I hadn't seen, though far from recent, because he said those were some of his better ones. They were all set in his small bedroom at Arlington. He sat as a shining light in the center of a cloud of gloom. That was when the tears came, learning of his experiences there, told in the most optimistic ways but unable to completely hide the dreariness of the situation. But even now, watching, looking back, he was smiling. God damn it, if I wasn't sure before, I was more than certain now: I loved him. I loved him like I'd never loved before, and hoped to never love again.

We stayed there watching old videos all night, and when the sun started to rise on the other side of the house, the dim light peeking through the open window, he pecked my cheeks. He didn't seem to mind my immediate rosiness. "Maybe we could make one together sometime."


	11. Chapter 11

**PHIL**

That night, as Dan and I continued to grow closer, I started to realize that I knew very little about him, and he hardly knew more about me. But the sudden reminder of my ignorance to him didn't change what I thought of him –rather, the Dan I did know. I'd never felt this way about anyone before though, and the only other time I'd fallen in love only felt like nausea compared to this.

I didn't know what it was about him that made my heart skip a beat, but he did, and without even trying he could reduce me to my knees. I'd gladly fall to my knees and pray for him to be mine, and that he would see me slouched over and pull me into his arms. I wanted his touch but was too shy to take it for myself. I was falling in love with him, but how could I say it? We'd kissed, and still I knew nothing about what we were supposed to be to each other. Did he want a relationship like I might? Did I even want one myself? Or it might've been better to stay close friends, especially when my possible expulsion was approaching.

It was Tuesday, and that coming night I wouldn't be able to stave off sleep again. The dread of coming nightmares only added to my exhaustion, and after spending a comparatively cheerful night with Dan, he didn't miss my sudden change in demeanor. And once Chloe was gone off, he voiced his concern. "You look tired. Maybe we shouldn't have stayed up all night."

I was stuck between appreciating his worry and not wanting to burden him with my troubles. "No, I had fun," I smiled, reaching out to tentatively take his hand across the gear shift. The corner of his mouth twitched and he squeezed my fingers gently in his own.

We spent a while in a comfortable silence, hands loosely locked, until we reached the school. Dan parked the car and I went to get out, until I noticed he wasn't. I settled back in my seat as he reclined in his own, and the silence resumed for a while. Dan eventually turned to me and ended the quiet. "Do you ever sleep?"

I was sort of taken aback at that, and started trembling slightly. He didn't fail to notice, and took my hand back in his, squeezing it gently in an unspoken plea for truth. I was again torn between gratitude and hesitancy, wanting to tell someone but not wanting to burden him with my troubles. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been filming videos in the middle of the night, when I'm asleep so I didn't notice before. The only times I know you've slept at all were the times you wake up screaming. And bubbly as you are, you still always look tired. You always get up before anyone. During the day, you're always with me, and I've never definitively known you to sleep at night. I mean, you must be quiet, cuz I've never really heard you in the middle of the night, but I also know that quiet doesn't always mean sleep." He clenched my hand a bit tighter. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong, what's keeping you awake… what's giving you nightmares."

I sighed and intertwined my fingers with his. I wanted to lean in and kiss his worry away, but it probably wouldn't help at a time like this. "Dan, I trust you more than I trust anyone, and there's so much that I want to tell you, but I can't." I leaned back in my seat a bit deeper, willing my body to melt into it to escape the pleading look Dan was giving me. He wanted answers I couldn't disclose and I could only hope he'd understand. "Okay?"

There was a long pause, and he shrugged. "Okay." He opened his door, got out and turned back to me. "You coming?"

I nodded mutely and got out my own side, shuffling to the other side of the car to follow him into the building.

* * *

"Hey."

We were talking down the hall side by side, making our way through the crowd as everyone around us seemed to be heading in the opposite direction we were working toward. Someone bumped my shoulder hard but I didn't think much of it, even when it happened again with another fellow student just after. I twitched but tried to relax. It was a tight space in the hoard of bodies, they didn't mean anything by it –and then another; I twitched again, starting to shake. Not here, not now.

"Phil!"

I looked to Dan, wondering why he'd hissed my name, and watched in confusion as he nodded insistently down between us. I looked down and saw his hand was slightly outstretched toward mine, knuckles about to graze but for the shy gap in between. I looked up for clarification, needing to know what he wanted very blatantly so I wouldn't make a wrong assumption, and in front of all his classmates, it seemed.

"Take my hand, come on!" he whispered.

Hearing him confirm my thoughts was a little more unexpected than I'd imagined. "In… public?"

He nodded sharply, quickly adding "If you want to. I want everyone who's gonna know I'm to know that I'm taken, too." His voice seemed to gain volume and confidence the more he talked about it.

"So we're…?"

"Is that what you want?"

I flushed, unsure. I'd never been in a serious relationship before, and I wondered if maybe Dan and I should just be friends a bit longer before we made any kind of commitment. But that kiss in the store was a thousand times better than I ever imagined a kiss could be, spontaneous and altogether non-romantic as it was. It was perfect. Did that mean I was in love with the boy I shared it with?

We had to part for class soon, and the window of opportunity here was small. I decided in the haste to throw just screw it and took his hand tightly in mine. If I was expecting some spark or magical moment, I would be greatly disappointed. It felt no different than just a moment ago, only now our hands were maybe sweating a bit more at the contact. And maybe we didn't need anything extraordinary. It felt kind of right, actually, as Dan was the one who made me feel normal for the first time in forever.

He smiled at me, a blush low on his cheeks but chin up and walking almost proudly with our fingers laced, out in the open air. But they came back apart as he went off for one class, and I headed to another down the hall. I wanted to kiss him, tell him that I loved him, but that would probably be too much for both of us at this point.

The bathrooms in our school were, naturally, mostly male exclusive, being an all-male school with a predominantly male faculty. There were girls' bathrooms scattered around, but they went mostly unused except by the occasional female faculty and visitors. I was passing by one of the handful of women's bathrooms, almost to my history class, when I felt a rough pair of hands pull me inside.


	12. Chapter 12

**DAN**

Mr. Thomas should know by now not to bother calling me up to the front, not if he didn't want me freaking the fuck out to the whispered snickering amusement of my classmates. I sunk into my seat, as if some descent behind my desk would make him forget he'd called me up to present my topic. I couldn't afford to stoop any lower in dignity than I had after the grapefruit incident. There wasn't much left of any confidence I had to give up.

"Mr. Howell? Your project." His voice was stern and tired from dealing with my antisocial quirks all semester. I couldn't blame him, but I couldn't ease the tension either. I could only sit and wait for one of us to budge, and I was pretty damn certain it wouldn't be me.

I was sick of going up and embarrassing myself. I was sick of my douchebag peers' laughter at my mistakes. I was sick of my shaky voice and my shaky hands and goddamn it I couldn't go through that again, not one more time. I wasn't getting out of this seat until the final bell. I'd go and meet my boyfriend and we'd go and get my sister and we'd go home, and I'd try to enjoy the rest of my day. But I was not going to the front of the fucking room to discuss something I had no fucking clue about.

"Mr. Howell, do you want detention, or worse?" _Worse?_ Was he gonna spank me or something? I was a bad boy, wasn't I, Mr. Thomas? Fuck you. "I'll mark your project down a letter grade, and give you detention for being uncooperative."

I shrugged. My defiance would get me nothing but the scraps of whatever public dignity I had. I couldn't put myself up there for them to finish me off. No one around me was saying anything, not that I could hear, but I knew they were all thinking it. _Go up, show what a dumbass you are, it'll be funny!_ No; not today, not anymore. This was my last year in school and I was making it out with some pride.

"Mr. Howell—"

There was a crash outside, and we all jumped in our seats, before jumping up from our seats and going to see what had happened. I normally fell a bit behind the crowd, but my position in the back corner near the door, and willingness to take any excuse to GTFO, allowed me to get out first and foremost. A crowd was already gathering outside, a small hollow left in front of the seldom used girls' bathroom, where the action seemed to be taking place. I subtly nudged my way through the body of bodies, curiosity piqued.

"The kid's fucking crazy!" Damian Peters had a black eye already plumming, and a bloody lip. Nate Tucker and James McGunthry were sporting bruises of their own. The trio had collapsed on itself as they hastily stumbled out of the girls' room, and scrambled to their feet to elbow their way through the looming crowd.

"Who is it, who hit you?" some unidentifiable student asked, voicing the universal question. I for one couldn't wait to give this guy a medal.

"The one who hangs out with Howell!" Tucker's eyes briefly went my own gone wide at the claim. He pointed a threatening finger even as his face twitched in urgency. "Your friend! And he'll be expelled for this, I'll see to it!"

But I had no time for the empty threats of a junior whose factory owning father had much lower standing with the school than my own. I didn't care about anything in that moment but going to Phil, evidently still inside the bathroom. Already at the front of the group, it was a clear shot to the door. I warned everyone to stay out, though I doubt anyone wanted to come in except maybe the headmaster to diffuse the situation. But he didn't know or care about Phil like I did, and would do nothing useful to help. I didn't know what happened, and I didn't know if I could fix it, but I cared enough to really try.

I stepped cautiously around the corner of the stalls, quietly calling out to him. He was hunched under the sinks, curled in on himself and shaking all over. He was visibly and audibly struggling to breathe and seeing him like this was just painful. What the hell had happened to get him like this? I approached carefully and started to see that he'd been hurt worse than all three of the others combined, littered with cuts and bruises. "Phil?" He didn't answer. "Phil, what happened, what's wrong?"

I knelt down beside him and gently took his shoulders, but he jerked away violently. I tried again, and he reacted the same. I had to get him calmed down, but it wouldn't happen in here. I reached to hold him more slowly and carefully this time, letting him adjust to the touch until I could pull him out from under the sink. He wasn't any better than a minute ago, but we had no time to waste here. I knew where he could start to relax, but I needed to get him there first.

"Baby, it's alright. Breathe. Come on, come with me, okay?" I coaxed him to his feet and he leaned heavily against him. I supported the both of us and walked him out of the bathroom, into the hallway, to the awaiting curious mass.

People around us were whispering to each other, gossiping already and glaring, but I paid no mind to them, rubbing my boyfriend's side to try to soothe him. The anxiety kept a strong hold of his mind and body, and it was terrifying for the both of us but I had to be the strong one and help as well as I could. With a strong command for the crowd to move, they parted for us to slowly make our way through. I half led, half carried him to the door going out to the concourse.

"Fresh air, baby. Breathe, come on, you're okay."

It took a few minutes to get to our favorite tree, and after some struggling I managed to get us both sitting under it. He still leaned into him, head on my chest as I gently combed my fingers through his hair. He was starting to breathe normal again, but I stayed silent for his sake, not asking questions, just comforting him and helping him through this.

"It's so sunny and warm out here, but the shade is nice. And the grass is really soft. I love the warmer weather, don't you?"

He choked and nodded a little against my shoulder. He was starting to come back to reality. I wrapped my arms around him, tugging him closer and hugging him tight. As he finally started to settle down, I decided not to ask questions right now. What had probably happened was Damian, Nate and James were being dicks and decided to wail on him, Phil freaked out and fought back, and continued to freak out even after the danger was gone.

It was terrible just to think about, but again, every once in a while I did have to face the fact that my boyfriend has issues, demons that weren't going away anytime soon.

It was the end of the day, actually, and we couldn't get in trouble for leaving. Thomas had never actually given me detention or anything, and we had to leave before the dickheads could make any accusations against Phil. "Come on, let's go home…"

We got to the car and he fell asleep in the front seat almost immediately. I thought the least it could've been was an easy sleep, but he was shaking and whimpering and I wanted to help but I didn't know what to do. I picked up Chloe, who seemed uncharacteristically concerned asking what was wrong with him, and I brushed it off with a "long day" excuse. My focus was divided between the road and my fitfully sleeping boyfriend, and remained so the whole way home.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Mentions of abuse._

* * *

**PHIL**

_There's a familiar crash down the hall: Daddy tossing another plate in the kitchen and letting it smash against the wall. I don't even know what he's so angry about; I'd cheer him up if I could. Mommy isn't home, but she told me a long time ago that whenever Daddy's angry, to go hide under my bed. So that's what I do. I hold Toby tight as I curl up on the floor. There isn't much space between the bed and the floor, but I think that's the idea, so Daddy won't think I'd be hiding there even though I am, and always do._

_I hear my door open and try not to cry or breathe harder, but I'm scared so it isn't easy. I bury my face in Toby's back and try to keep calm as Daddy calls out for me in his drunk voice, and knocks over my dresser and rips the sheets off my bed. He keeps yelling louder and louder, and Mommy always says she hopes a neighbor will hear and call the police, and they'll take him away. But as scary as my Daddy is, he's my Daddy and I don't want him to go to jail. I just want him to stop hurting me and Mommy._

_"__There you are!"_

_He reaches under the bed and grabs me by my Superman shirt. In my shock I drop Toby and start crying. Daddy slaps me and tells me to shut up and stop being a baby. He says I'm a big boy now and need to stop my sniveling. I try to stop so he won't hit me again, but my cheek stings bad and Daddy's being loud and smells like the nasty alcohol and I just wanna go to sleep with my lion stuffie. I choke on a sob and Daddy hits me harder, and again, and again._

_"__I-I-..!" I try to stop myself before I can finish, but it already starts to come out. "I want M-Mommy!"_

_Daddy grins and his voice gets real low. He bends down to my level and breathes his nasty alcohol breath in my face. "Mommy's not coming back!" he laughs, and tosses me down on my stripped mattress. "Your mommy's gone. It's just you and me now."_

* * *

I woke up shaking and sweating as always, but a pair of arms wrapped around me and I almost went into hysterics. I turned and saw it was Dan lying next to me in bed, and for a moment my mind stopped spinning with horrid memories but instead with worries about why he was in the bed with me. Had we slept together? Had we… had sex? I didn't remember any of this, why was Dan in my bed!

He pulled me back down against him and I felt his face bury into my neck and that was… somewhat calming. I didn't know how or why it was working but having Dan here, holding me, and mumbling that it was okay and that I was safe, that was somehow making the nightmares start to fade away already. I tried to relax into his embrace, and it actually kind of worked.

But as my mind started to clear, the questions remained unanswered, and despite the relative pleasantness of the silence, I had to break it and get some clarification before I could be fully at ease. "Dan?" He hummed an acknowledgement, apparently half-asleep himself. "Don't take this the wrong way, but… why are you in my bed?"

"Do you want me to leave?" He didn't sound offended; genuinely concerned for my own comfort, and I had to smile a bit at that.

"No, it's not that. I just don't remember how we got here."

He kissed the back of my neck, smiling against my skin. "You wouldn't, you were asleep. You fell asleep on the ride home, and when we got back you weren't waking up. I know you don't sleep enough, so I decided to let you stay asleep and just carried you inside. I got you to bed and tucked you in, but I was worried that you would have another nightmare, so I thought maybe I should stay with you just in case. It got really late and I couldn't fall asleep in the chair, so I hoped you wouldn't mind my sleeping next to you." He pressed his face against my shoulder. "I hope I didn't scare you."

I shook my head. "You didn't. I just worried for a second that we might've… you know… and I didn't remember."

Dan frowned and pulled away a bit. "Look at me." I turned over carefully to be face to face with him. "What do you remember of yesterday?"

I thought hard, and some things came back to me. "I remember classes, and when you asked me to hold your hand in the hallway, and I remember…" Some more painful bits started to surface. "I remember someone pulling on me, and then something hurt, but I don't remember really anything after."

Dan nodded and leaned in to kiss my cheek. My face heated up so I hid it in the pillow. "I understand," he hummed, rubbing my shoulder. "It was Damian and Nate and James that did it. They pulled you into the girls' bathroom to beat you up but you fought them off. You fought all three of them off, and I'm so proud of you for being able to hold your own against those guys."

I didn't realize I started sobbing until Dan asked me what was wrong, why I was crying. I pulled my face up out of the pillow. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just… I freaked out. I-I know it sounds stupid but I didn't know what I was doing."

"No, I know, baby. Don't feel bad about protecting yourself, even if you didn't know you were doing it. They assaulted you and you saw red and you don't have to worry about it. You're not gonna be in any trouble, I promise."

I tried to believe what he was saying. "Did… Did your parents find out?"

"Not that I know."

I swallowed hard. "But what if they do? Are they gonna send me b—"

"They're not gonna find out. I'll make sure of it."

I took a deep breath and nodded. I had to not feel guilty about what had happened.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

"About why you freaked out. About why you have nightmares all the time." He moved closer so his face was just inches from mine. I blushed a brighter red than before. "What's scaring you, sweetie?"

I flinched. "Please don't call me that…" I managed to fight off the memories associated with it, but needed a distraction soon before the defense was dropped and everything came flooding back.

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. What's scaring you?" he repeated, dropping the pet name that brought back the pain.

I swallowed and let out a shuddering breath, eyes squeezed shut and goose bumps rising on my pale skin. I'd never told anyone –not my foster families, not the therapists at Arlington, not anybody. But nobody had ever asked –or when they had, it was only to make me face the fears, and asked in a monotonous voice that only amplified how they weren't invested in anything I had to say, in anything I was feeling. Dan was here, speaking softly, arms loosely wrapped around my waist to let me know that he was here for the long run, that he only wanted me to talk about it because he cared and wanted to help. And Dan was the first person I actually did believe might be able to really help me forget and move on.

And so I told him. I told him how my father had been an abusive prick, who'd intimidated my mother and I, and drink himself into a violent rage, and take it out on us physically. I told him how I'd been taken out of school at eight years old when the teachers started to grow suspicious, but how I'd still taught myself when no one else did. I told him how my father drove my dear mother to her death and then disappeared. I told him how it took a week for the police to come and find the scrawny boy crying dry tears over his mother's decaying body. I told him how they took me and pried for an answer, where my father was, and if he was responsible for the death; I didn't have answers to give them.

I told him how they let it go quickly, and how I was left to go from family to family. I told him how none of them really wanted to take care of me, only felt obligated to do so, out of respect to my mother. I told him how they'd then let me go to a new home from fear of my father or of me, I was never sure. I told him how none of them wanted to keep the kid who woke up screaming at night, waking themselves and their real children. None of them wanted the burden a troubled child brought, and passed me along like a fucking hot potato.

I told him how after several families I ended up at Arlington, even though I hadn't believed I was crazy at the time. I told him how as time went on and the therapists seemed to cast me aside for more urgent or "cooperative" students, and how I came to think that maybe I was crazy, and how maybe it was my fault for not opening up, but by then no one was willing to listen, so I just never talked. I told him how I trained myself not to sleep so much, so I wouldn't have nightmares every night. I told him how I only sleep every three or four days, and not nearly enough even then, because the horrible memories wake me up. Those were those times he caught me screaming in the night.

I told him how I felt guilty for the abuse, and for feeling so broken over it, when there are so many people who have it worse than I do. And while Dan had listened patiently the whole time, holding me gently and caringly coaxing me to continue when I thought I couldn't –this was where he cut me off.

"Bullshit," he said, hugging me tight. "Don't ever invalidate what you feel. You were hurt badly, and even if the abuse had only been emotional, it was painful for you. And it was physical, too. This is still painful for you years later, and no one has any right to tell you it shouldn't. You've been traumatized to the point where you can't even sleep without the pain resurfacing, and nobody, fucking nobody is in any place to tell you that you could've had it worse, or that people do have it worse. You're not them. You can feel bad for them but that doesn't mean your pain isn't worth being addressed, or that you don't need or deserve help. And maybe people have been dicks about it before, but not anymore. I'm gonna help you, and get others more qualified to help you. And it's gonna take time, but you'll get better." He squeezed me tight. "I love you, okay? I love you."

I smiled, shaking at the pent up emotions let go, and at his genuine concern and love and want to help. I hadn't known love like this since my mother was alive, and this was the first time it was expressed to me. It was overwhelming. I'd never really felt anything like this before, and needed an outlet. I pushed him away gently and pressed my lips against his, trying to pour all my passion into it so he'd know I love him like he loved me. I didn't feel the rumored sparks or anything, not any more than with our first kiss or any gesture since, but I did feel a warmth bubble up in my chest that I wanted to hold onto forever.

Dan was first to pull back cupped my cheek in his hand, and told me I was beautiful, and for the first time in a very long time, I didn't think it was a lie. I thanked him, and asked if we could kiss again. He grinned at how forward I was being, and happily obliged.

It felt good to tell him everything... Almost everything.


	14. Chapter 14

**DAN**

I didn't find my boyfriend in bed next to me in the morning. I rolled over and turned on the lamp, and caught him turning back from the window in the sudden light. His expression was blank, as if he was only partly awake. I sat up a bit, running a hand through my mussed hair. "Did you sleep at all, baby?" I asked, wondering if he'd maybe just spent hours staring out into the dusk.

He gave me a small, sad smile, eyes glazed but warm. "Nope," he answered with a small shrug, arms crossed over his chest. I understood, sort of. He'd grown so used to just not sleeping that even knowing I was here, and after he'd opened up to me last night, it was going to take more time to heal. One day –one night— he'd be able to sleep peacefully, but I told myself not to expect it anytime soon.

He turned back to the window, shivering. I thought he might have been feeling guilty for not healing quickly. The light from the lamp shone on the back of his loose t-shirt, hanging limply from his shoulders, the stark white of his shirt and skin contrasted by the deep purple of scattered bruises on his tense arms and visible through the fabric on his back. I wanted to tell him it was alright, that if he'd come lie down with me I'd hold him tight and keep him safe. I didn't; I'd woken up early for a reason, and forced myself out of bed.

"I'll be back, okay?" I put on some more presentable clothes to meet with my parents, and received no response from Phil as I headed out the door.

I sat on the floor outside my parents' office, knowing they definitely wouldn't approve of my coming to their bedroom. They'd come by here to pick up their things for the day, and I hoped I could speak to them before they had to leave. I was shaking all over at the thought that they may know about what happened yesterday, between Phil and the fuck nuggets. It hadn't been Phil's fault, but if Mom and Dad heard rumor that he was acting out at this school, they might send him back to Arlington, and I'd lose him. I had to make sure they stayed in the dark, because if I told them what had really happened, they wouldn't listen, or wouldn't understand.

"Hey, Daniel."

I looked up to see Chloe approaching in her robe, hair wet. I wanted to ignore her but she'd only throw a fit for attention if I did, so I glanced up to acknowledge her presence, then back down at the ground. Surprisingly, she sat next to me.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" she asked, clearly not really interested in what was bothering me but having no one else to talk to at this hour.

I decided I maybe shouldn't tell her, as she was prone to rat me out on everything. "Nothing. What are you doing up?"

"Perfection takes time and dedication, so I get up at five every morning to get ready. It's such a trifle being me," she lamented in her signature self-pitying tone. I scoffed at her ego, hoping it would maybe knock her down a peg, though it never did. "Now if you could be so kind as to answer my question?"

I laughed. "Sorry, I didn't hear you, what was that?" I teased, part playful, and part really wanting to get on her nerves like she got on mine.

She huffed, like I was so troubling to her. "I asked what's got your panties in a twist. What's wrong?"

"Do you actually care or do you just like to have shit over me?"

"Which do you think?" she asked flatly. "And don't try to hide it; I heard about the fight."

I swallowed hard but tried to cover it up. "What fight?"

"Don't be so dumb, Daniel. Mike told me all about it –he's pissed off. He said three of his friends got beaten up by 'the freaky new kid.' Am I safe to assume it was your freak?"

"Piss off!" I pushed her away a little, hoping she'd let up and leave me alone, to no such luck.

"Nuh uh, you start talking, or I'll tell Daddy!" She was loving this –she loved having some kind of hold over me. But I couldn't risk her going and telling our father about it, because I couldn't let him send Phil back. So I had to fess up.

"Damian and Nate and James all grabbed him and beat him up in the girls' bathroom," I said at length, burying my face into my knees. "Phil freaked out and fought back, can you blame him? It was three against one, but he managed to fight them off. They all ran out but he was already in a state and I had to calm him down."

There was a long minute of silence between us, until Chloe broke it uncertainly. "I'm sorry about your friend…" I couldn't tell if she was being genuine or not, or knew quite how to react, but I decided to give her some credit for at least trying. "Or… what's going on between you two?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you, like… together…?"

"No, of course not." I couldn't tell her, but I wasn't sure I sounded very convincing. "We're friends. Best friends, maybe, but neither of us really have any others so we kind of lean on each other a bit. But I'm not gay, Chlo. I'm not gay." I sounded almost like I was trying to convince myself than my sister, though I'd accepted my orientation years ago.

She nodded slowly, and started to stand back up. "Okay. I'll tell Mike to talk to his friends and tell them to leave Phil alone, as long as you don't rat us out to Mom and Dad. You go talk to them, and talk to your headmaster –I'm sure he'll understand." And with that little summary, she left, humming some tuneless song as she drifted down the hall.

I barely had a moment alone before my father came to retrieve his things. "Daniel? What are you doing here, and on the floor? Get up!"

I stood quickly; upsetting him would only be to my disadvantage, when I really needed to be on his good side. "I came to ask you something, and needed to ask before school."

He harrumphed and opened the office door, half listening as he gathered papers and shit. "And what did you need to ask?"

"Did you, um… Did you get a call from the school yesterday?"

He finally looked at me, a fire building in his eyes at the thought of any misbehavior from me. Just as quickly he went back to shoving folders into his briefcase. "Not that I know of; I'll have to check with Mary but I don't believe I got any calls from your school yesterday. Why? Have you and your friend been cutting class again?"

"No, no—" (as much as I wanted to) "I've- we've both been going to all our classes and working hard."

He grunted. "Good. I don't want to hear about any more of that nonsense. Why would I have received a call, then?"

I brushed it off, having rehearsed thoroughly in my mind. "Oh, nothing; I heard something about a change to the lunch menu, and they like to call about every little thing. I just wanted to check because I thought you should tell Chef that we should have pasta tonight, and not tomorrow, because we're having something very similar at lunch tomorrow."

He laughed quietly. "Alright, I'll pass it along." He passed by me on his way out of the office, out for the day.

I sighed, relieved; they hadn't called my parents. There was just one more person I needed to talk to.

* * *

It turned out the Headmaster was out sick with the flu, and only the Assistant Headmistress was available to speak to. "Good morning, Mr. Howell," she greeted, friendly, closing the door behind me and walking back around to her long desk. "How can I help you today?" She wasn't distracted by papers or anything; I seemed to have her full attention, and took advantage of it.

"Well, yesterday, what happened in and outside the third floor girls' bathroom—"

"Oh, yes, I heard. Shame we'll have to expel that poor boy." She wrote something down as I gaped in awe.

"What! You can't expel him for that, he didn't do anything wrong!"

"Daniel, he beat up three fellow students and sent them running in terror." Her voice was disturbingly calm. She came around and sat on her desk in front of where I sat in a leather chair.

"_They_ attacked _him_! He was defending himself, and had a panic attack because of it!"

"And if that story checks out, the three will be expelled, also. But this school as a zero-tolerance policy on violence; you know that, don't you?"

I did. I'd encountered it a few times before, and it had always served me well, but suddenly the tables were turning. "Please don't… If he gets expelled, I'll lose him, and I can't let that happen."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I'm sure we can make some other arrangement." She crossed her legs, making her skirt ride up a light. I blanched. "What do you say?"

* * *

I got to leave a while later, and found Phil was still, incredibly patiently, in the lobby waiting for me. "Dan? You ready to go?"

I swallowed and took his hand. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

**PHIL**

"The things you do for love…."

Dan had been mumbling to himself since we got in the car, but this was the first line I could actually catch. I wasn't sure how we could pretend nothing was wrong; he didn't seem angry or anything, but definitely stressed and so tense he was shaking. I reclined a bit in the passenger seat, debating whether I could or should address it, or let it go ignored. I didn't want to upset him, but I wanted to understand what it was that seemed to be bothering him, so I could help.

He only had one hand on the wheel as we pulled up to a red light, a few blocks from Chloe's school. I reached out to take the trembling free hand, hoping he'd let me hold it if only for a few moments, but he jerked it away roughly. I flinched a little, and things grew very quiet as we pulled up in front of the girls' school.

* * *

It was really difficult not really speaking to Dan the next few days. Wednesday and Thursday, he was still sneaking to my room after dark and got me to lie down with him, even if I wouldn't sleep. He'd hold me close, and kiss my forehead, and tell me he loved me and I'd say it back; but no more words were exchanged, not then or in the daytime. At school he seemed to avoid me, and I got a little anxious and lost a few times, but found my way through the hoard of other students, most of them larger if not taller than myself. I'd get bumped and tossed around all the way to my destinations, and was shaking when I went through the door. I tried so hard to focus in class, but I was obsessing over what I could've possibly done wrong to make Dan almost turn me away. How had I upset him so much that he went from actually wanting to hold my hand in public, to not wanting to be seen with me at all? What had made him so private all of a sudden; what had I done? I couldn't get the thoughts out of my head, and had no one to blame but myself.

But by Friday night he didn't even come to me –it was well past midnight and he was still in his own bedroom, hopefully sleeping soundly. I didn't dare to blink; I knew if I did, I'd be asleep, too. This anxiety over how I must've hurt my boyfriend was only going to make the nightmares worse, and even if I deserved it –and even if I hadn't slept in over three days— I would fight it off as long as I could.

I stood stiffly at the window, watching the soft wind rustle the trees, itching to feel the breeze on my skin but confined to this one room. It was a rule in the house that no one was to be lounging out of their bedrooms after ten, and the front door was kept locked tight with a key that the Howells kept in their office. I knew I should've been grateful: this room was so much more luxurious than my old one had been, but something kept me still feeling trapped, the walls almost closing in around me. Without Dan here, even with all these commodities the place felt more barren than my cell had been.

I resisted an urge to sway slightly, body tired, and ironically just about fell over resisting the movement. My stare grew blank, and I wasn't watching the trees or the dark sky anymore. I wasn't really looking at anything at all. My head ached and breathing quaked, but I willed myself to stay strong, and refocused on the thought of Dan sleeping peacefully in the room next door.

* * *

Dan's nice clothes were too big on me, but I couldn't be bothered to think much of it, mind completely overridden with dread. It was Saturday, the night I had to prove myself worthy of staying here with the Howells. I had maybe selfishly hoped Dan would be here to reassure me, even just once, that everything would be fine and I had nothing to worry about –but he was still only avoiding me.

I thought to go to his room, where he was getting himself ready for the party, but didn't want to impose and only make things worse between us the one night things needed to be alright. It was upsetting and frustrating how he wouldn't talk to me; I would fully accept whatever I'd done wrong and apologize as profusely as it took for his forgiveness, and try my damnedest to earn it, but I had no idea what I'd even done wrong and he wouldn't tell me what it was. I was left to figure it out for myself.

I thought back to when it started –was it maybe the fight that I'd sort of gotten into with those three guys? Dan had seemed so supportive and understanding; what could've made him change his mind? Maybe I was at fault. If that was the case, I'd handwrite a formal letter of apology to each of the three of them, and keep to myself from now on. I'd been keeping to myself on the way to class that day, but that was no matter, I'd screwed up, I had to do whatever I needed to do to fix it –to earn Dan's love back.

"Are you ready?"

I spun around, frightened and half naked, to find Dan sticking his head through the doorway. I stumbled over an answer. "N-No, not- not yet! I… I don't think these pants wanna stay up…" I tugged them up again, and they only fell flat. I hadn't been given a belt, and didn't want to bother anyone by asking. "And… I can't quite figure these buttons out…" My hands were trembling too much to do the shirt up right, and Dan seeing me so exposed was only making it worse.

Dan sighed a little, coming in and closing the door behind him, avoiding eye contact. He opened the closet and grabbed a belt, that I hadn't seen before, from inside, and came over to help dress me. He got my pants up and my breath hitched as his thumb brushed against my thigh. I hoped he couldn't see or feel how much I was shaking; thankfully, if he did, he didn't say anything. I could only relax a little once he got the belt situated and the pants staying up, and his hands moved to button my shirt from the bottom up.

I didn't look him in the face, but as he came level to me, out of the edge of my eye I could see his expression soften a little, and he reached up to touch my cheek. His hands we were on my icy skin.

"Are you alright?" His voice was soothing to hear so close, and I was shaking a little less. I nodded mutely, and he smiled a little, stroking my cheekbone gently with his thumb. He huffed out a heavy breath, and said, "I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. It's… It's just—"

The door swung open again, Chloe invading the bedroom without a knock or a warning. She stared blankly at us for a long minute, and Dan and I were frozen where we were, too stunned to move an inch. The moment dragged out silently, before Chloe turned her attention back to the pink phone in her hand. "You lovebirds ready?"

Dan swore and grabbed a pillow off the nearby bed, and tossed it at her, missing as she fled from the room. He slammed the door and turned back to me, eyes wild and brimming with tears. His little sister had found us out. I stepped forward, wanting to comfort him, but he swore again and stormed out. I collapsed to the bed in silent tears.

* * *

The party was as extravagant and dull as I'd expected. I stared around at the beautiful décor, lost in a kind of elegance I'd never seen before. The place was a palace out of a fairy tale, and everyone around me was beautiful. No one spoke to me, and I kept to myself in the corner, which was alright; when I wasn't gazing at the gorgeousness around me, I was watching the most gorgeous young man across the room, and worried over everything happening between us –how we could be openly outed at any moment.

I took a step outside, hoping the fresh air would clear my head.

In the limo here, Dan had whispered to me that Chloe couldn't be trusted with our secret, and the rest of the ride was silent. More tears pricked in my eyes at his distress. I honestly wouldn't really mind if anyone found out that I was gay, but Dan was different; Dan had a position to keep and was only hanging onto it by a thread. He told me time and time again that he wasn't cut out for the high society he'd been born into, and that he was too afraid to be entirely himself because no one would understand –that was why he rebelled, and that was why he needed to keep us a secret. I couldn't imagine living in that kind of hell, and even made my own hell almost soften a bit. I knew people had it worse, I just never thought of what kind of people.

Dan told me that wasn't fair to say, though, especially after I'd told him nearly everything. He said that everyone has different tortures in their lives, and not to invalidate my own awful past just because I wasn't the only one. I'd left out the most terrible facts, the ones that only manifested the absolute worst of my nightmares, but I'd feel sick if I didn't consider Dan's own pain. It really hurt to think of how he was hurting.

"Hello?"

I was brought out of my thoughts by a bubbly girl a little older than myself, with dark blonde hair and bright green eyes that sparkled in the sunset. I stammered out a greeting and bowed a little, like she was a princess. She might as well have been, in her feathery forest green dress and glittering silver jewelry. Of all the beautiful women I'd seen here tonight, she was maybe the most stunning, and if I was attracted to girls, I'd most certainly be attracted to her.

She giggled at my awkwardness and sat down next to me on the stone wall. She asked if I'd like to be her partner for the night. I told her she maybe wouldn't want to be seen with me, and when she asked why not, I told her how I was just the kid the Howells took in, and that I wasn't high class like she clearly was. She laughed and said she already knew that, and that I cleaned up very nicely. She also explained how her date had cancelled last minute and she didn't want to be seen without a man on her arm. She told me I was very handsome and that if I went and stayed with her through the party, she could have a date, and she could show me how to act at these kinds of things.

I thought on it for a moment. Dan and I needed to keep up that we weren't together like we were, especially now that Chloe had seen us, and having this pretty girl with me could make me seem straight as a board. And Dan was back to avoiding me here, for the sake of our secret –it seemed like a good plan!

* * *

Sophie and I spent the middle part of the party together, and despite her quiet energy and guidance, I was starting to not feel so well. My head was swimming and light and I felt about ready to pass out, but I forced myself to stay alert as possible.

Amongst Sophie's friends and family, and others in attendance, she freely introduced me as the Howells' charity case. I didn't like that she was calling me that, but when she then went on about how I was a perfect gentleman, and how well I looked and dressed, I let it slide. I was feeling too sick to argue it even if I could, and stayed silently at her side the whole night. Once or twice I met Dan's eye, but we both quickly turned away. I bit my lip and made a note to explain things after this was over, and tell him how much I love him once we were alone.

I blinked hard; the room was spinning and I felt horribly off balance, ready to collapse. Sophie asked me what was wrong, sounding genuinely concerned but trying to keep everything discreet with everyone around. I said I was fine, forcing a smile, and dropped to the floor.


	16. Chapter 16

**DAN**

Seeing him with that girl made me want to puke. As if the current situation wasn't bad enough, and I was being forced into interactions I didn't want to have with people I don't care to ever see, I had to watch my boyfriend hang around on some bimbo's arm. I didn't know much about Sophie Monroe, but what I've been told was that she's a floozy and a bitch when she's not playing the princess role, and that wasn't the type of person I wanted being around my Phil.

"How are things with the new boy in the house?" my uncle asked, sipping his third glass of wine. I mumbled, hoping he'd let it go, but he persisted, slurring a bit. "Don't like having to share your space with another young man? I can't imagine it's comfortable: having some stranger living in the room next to your own, worrying he might try something on you."

My uncle –my only uncle, so his name isn't important— likes to assume that everyone he deems below our status is evil and out to get us, and for whatever reason is convinced that young men these days are all gay. I don't know where he gets his news or what he's been smoking, but not only was their no changing his mind, but there was so much wrong in what he'd just said that I couldn't be bothered to address it tonight. The more I could avoid conversation, the better.

Ryan Hasting approached me and tugged on my arm, and while I was glad to be away from my drunk uncle, the situation would inevitably be not much improved. Ryan was the son of my dad's ex business partner, and so we were supposed to be friends, but well, friends was a bit more than a stretch. We'd never gotten along in our lives, the seventeen or so years we've known each other. Maybe I'm holding a grudge for all the time he stole my juice boxes, but he's always been a manipulator and used to always take advantage of my previously good nature. But we tolerated each other, reluctantly, for our families' sakes, but most of the time when he was nice it was because he wanted something out of me.

Once he'd gotten me into a small clear among the other stuffed shirts and their arm candies, I pried myself from his grasp. "What is it, what do you want?"

"I heard your family's charity case knocked the shit out of three guys at your school. Think he'll be expelled?"

I bit my lip hard. "No, no, I don't think he will. It was all a misunderstanding and… I explained things, and it'll all just blow over soon enough."

He nodded. "Shame. Might've made headlines –well, maybe not headlines, but the papers. 'Socialites' Messed-Up Foster Child Assaults Wealthy Classmates.'"

"Fuck off. And that was a shit headline."

"I'm just saying." He shrugged, feigning innocence in the situation. "It would suck for your family to have to find out the hard way, that the kid's causing all sorts of trouble at a school they're paying so much for the likes of him to attend."

"Listen, your opinions aren't warranted or appreciated. Phil isn't 'messed up,' and will do a lot better if assholes like you would just leave him alone."

"What, is the baby triggered by stress?" he mocked, and I clenched my fists, willing myself not to do to him like Phil had done to the trio –and I think it would be equally justified, if not so easily forgiven.

"Yeah, actually. And if you're not gonna help, then fuck the hell off."

"Language, Daniel." And he walked away with a triumphant bounce in his step. I wanted to trip him, but walked away instead. I had to find Phil, and get him away from Sophie, who would prove to be just as bad news for us as Ryan –I could feel it.

There was a shriek, and a sudden commotion and then everyone was gasping and gathering around something I couldn't see. I stood tiptoe, but as easily as I could see over their heads, I couldn't make out what it was that was going on. I rudely elbowed my way through to get a better look, to find my boyfriend unconscious on the tile.

"Everyone back off! And someone call an ambulance." I knelt on the floor next to Phil. Despite his being unresponsive, he seemed otherwise alright, and I thought for a moment he may have just been asleep. But I wasn't taking any chances. I knew I had to stay calm, and not appear _too_ worried, so no one would suspect anything. But deep in the darkest reaches of my mind made me wonder if maybe he wasn't alright. Oh god, what if Phil was dying? No. No, I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him die like this. "Someone help!"

* * *

An hour and a half later and we find out it was the lack of sleep that had made him pass out. I wanted to tell them that he hardly ever slept, and this was a chronic thing that should maybe seriously be looked into before something happens much worse than just passing out at a fancy party, but then I figured they were doctors and I shouldn't be telling doctors what they could probably figure out in their sleep –no pun intended.

I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting (as it were) for the all clear to go and see him. My leg couldn't be kept still the whole time, bouncing anxiously as I was forced to stay here until Phil was completely situated and fully conscious again. I knew he was alright now, but now I wanted to see him more than anything. And if my family weren't able to see, hell, I'd go right in there and kiss him silly. Sure, he'd be a little shocked and still probably out of it, but I think he'd like it. It'd be a nice thing to kind of wake up to –I know I would appreciate being woken with a kiss. And maybe if I hadn't been such an ass to him lately I would've gotten good-morning kisses it all week.

"Daniel, how long did you plan on lying to me?"

I looked up to see my dad suddenly standing in front of me, towering over and almost looking intimidating. My mouth went dry. "I don't know what you're talking about…" It wasn't a lie: it could've been any number of things.

"Spare me the bullshit, son. I heard about the fight Phil got into at school."

Oh. That. "It wasn't a fight, really—"

"Dan." He cuts me off and sits in the chair next to me. His face goes soft. "Defending a friend when you know they're wrong, for the sake of loyalty, is both an incredibly foolish and incredibly noble thing to do. But I know that's not why you're defending him."

"What… What do you mean?"

He turned a bit toward me, and spoke in hushed tones. "I know you have… feelings for the boy. And you're protecting him because you think you love him."

"No…" I didn't think, I knew; but I couldn't tell him that. "You're wrong. We're just friends, and it really wasn't a fight or anything to get worked up over."

"Daniel, I've been in your place before. I've…" He coughed awkwardly. "I once thought I had feelings for another boy, when I was your age. I believed I might've been in love, but that wasn't the case, and I was so relieved when I realized. And you will be, too, when you realize that this attraction you feel toward him is just because you're not terribly social, and you've had to hang out with him these last few weeks, so he's the closest thing you have to a real friend and you're mistaking that for a romantic attraction, this friendship you've formed. But once he's gone you'll realize that it was all a trick your mind so cruelly played on you. You'll find someone else someday."

It started to sink in what was going on. "You… You're sending him back?" My voice rose in frustration and fear. Dad stayed cool as a fucking cucumber.

"I'm afraid so, son. But you'll thank me for it, because once he's gone and you have the chance to forget about him—"

"I'm _not_ gonna forget about him!" I flew up from my chair, shouting now and probably worrying the hospital staff and others there in the room, most of all my mother and sister. My volume lowered again to keep from causing a scene or anything, entirely too socially conscious even when I was absolutely seething. "You say you know all about it but you don't! I don't think I love him, I do fucking love him! I… I hate it sometimes because I know, I fucking know what it means and I don't understand and I get scared, and you of all people are supposed to support me! I'm sorry I can't live up to your expectations, or feed your delusions about my sexuality –which by the way, is none of your damn business. I'm sorry I'm not and never will be the son you've always wanted." I turned to my mother and Chloe. "I'm sorry to be such a fucking disappointment. But I'm in love with him and nothing will change that."

My dad sighed, head lowered slightly. "I hope you can prove me wrong. We'll see."

"N-No…" I was on the verge of outright sobbing, but tried to keep myself composed. I knew what was coming all too quickly, all too well.

"Your friend's been put in the psychiatric ward of this hospital, as a precaution. And once he's medically cleared he'll be returning to Arlington."

"No…"

* * *

I was told I couldn't stay there with him long, as visiting hours were almost over. I wasn't sure how long I could watch him sleeping fitfully like this anyway. I knew he was having a nightmare, but was under too much sedation now to know if I were to try to comfort him. I stroked his cheek a little, careful to avoid the tubes going into his nose. I thought how this would maybe be the last time I'd see him before he was sent off, and I cried like a bitch.

Eventually it was just too much, and selfishly, I left. I texted him the moment I got out the door, knowing his phone was waiting for him on the small table next to the hospital bed.

_'You'll find out what's going on soon. I told them about us and I don't regret it. I love you.'_


	17. Chapter 17

**PHIL**

It was the first sunrise that was more of a dread than a joy to see. The pinks and yellows painting the gray sky would plague me for a long time after they melted to blue. I was sitting out on the front porch of the house, clutching my bag in my lap as Mr. and Mrs. Howell waited at the car. They were both growing impatient, and urged me to hurry up and get in, but I couldn't; not yet. I was waiting for Dan, who I knew would be out here any minute.

After being released from the hospital, Dan had convinced his parents –begging and pleading and bribing with good behavior— to let me stay. They somewhat generously brought me here for one night, and said it was just to pack and tidy the room I'd stayed in. Dan helped me get what little I had. Once that was done, he told me to wait a moment while he headed off to his room. I sat on the bed and waited patiently for him to return.

He came back with a stuffed bear in his hands, turning it over and looking so fondly at it. "This, uh…" He came in from the doorway, closing it behind him. "I've had this since I was a baby, and yeah I'm probably a loser for it, but I've slept with it every night since I was that little." He sat down next to me, holding the teddy in his lap. After a nervous cough, he went on, "I know you don't have a lot left from your childhood, and your whole world is some clothes and stuff. And I know you didn't have the best time when you were a kid and a lot of the stuff was downright painful, so maybe you want to forget. But I… I just wanna give a little piece of childhood to you."

He put the bear in my lap. I was stunned speechless; he was giving this to me? Something that clearly meant so much to him and that he'd miss so badly? "No, Dan, I can't take this." I tried to give it back, but he refused.

"I want you to. Please. I don't-…" He wiped at his eyes and I wanted to kiss his tears away, but he starting talking again. "I don't know when the next time we'll see each other will be, and I want you to have a piece of me with you. I know we can still talk online and all that, but it's not gonna be the same. I hope this might make the transition back a little easier, and the dull room you stay in a bit less gloomy. He always cheered me up when I was down; I made him promise to do the same for you."

I looked down at the stuffed bear now in my lap, and it felt too precious to even hold properly. It was damaged by time, with a missing eye and matted fur, and little holes where the cotton was poking out.

"I think he's ready to go with you."

I set the thing down carefully on the bed, and turned back to Dan, hugging and kissing him and never wanting to let him go. He held me just as tight and I felt safe in his arms, but knew it would have to end all too soon. Only time would tell when we would be in each other's embrace like this again. For now we had this one night together.

"Come on, we've got to get going."

"He'll be out in a minute!" I knew I should've woken Dan up to say goodbye, but he promised he'd be up in the morning to see me off. But we were outside already, and ready to go. We had to leave by seven and waiting on Dan. "Please, he's coming, I know it."

Mr. Howell sighed loudly. I knew he didn't really want me to see Dan again this morning, before they took me back to Arlington, but he sucked it up and got into the car to cool down. I was grateful for his impatient patience. Mrs. Howell followed into the passenger seat. I stayed on the stoop.

* * *

Seven o'clock came and went, and they weren't in the mood for waiting anymore. They had their own lives they couldn't spend much longer on me. And Dan hadn't come outside. I would've called him if I had a phone. I'd thought to go inside and get him, but the door was locked. I shouted up to the window –nothing. Tears pricked and welled in my eyes; I tried and failed to stay calm.

"Come on, let's go!"

I heaved up my bag and stomped over to the car, suppressing sobs. I shoved the bag into the seat beside me, got in and buckled my seat belt. Without another word to me, Mr. Howell started to car and pulled out down the driveway.

It was several miles before I could make myself calm down. I watched the landscape roll by in a blur as we headed upstate to where the home was. I knew it would be a few hours and tried to occupy my mind with more pleasant thoughts, but everything I'd found enjoyment in lately had centered around Dan, and Dan had ultimately abandoned me.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face between them. I was being so selfish; Dan had given me his most treasured childhood toy and I was angry at him for not waking up at the crack of dawn to come say goodbye. I hadn't stopped once to think of how he was hurting over this, but when I did it only made things worse. So in the end I didn't blame Dan for not waking up to see me one last time, but the tears started up again and didn't stop for a long time.

At length I glanced out the window at the painted sky as it faded to a light blue, and cursed it. I never wanted to see a sunrise again.

* * *

We came to the dense woods I'd watched from a barred window for four years, and I knew my fate was sealed.

A nurse greeted us at the door, the head of the home stepping out a moment after we parked. She greeted me, welcoming me back with a solemn tone. The nurse came right up to me and asked if I was alright; I told her I was, which she accepted and took my things inside. I was told that I'd be returning to my old bedroom. "But there's a new arrival who moved in there shortly after you left. Since we didn't count on your returning, and all the other rooms are occupied, you'll just have a new roommate."

I tensed, dreading this arrangement already.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded, and turned to the Howells, who hadn't gotten out of the car. I crouched down next to the passenger window. "I wish things could've worked out better. Thank you for the opportunity, letting me stay with you."

And they left me there to rot.


	18. Chapter 18

**DAN**

I started just twiddling my thumbs in front of the camera, knowing it was watching me but not really sure where to start with all this. There was so much explaining to be done and I'd been so sparse on videos lately that even if I just came out with it, my audience wouldn't be able to understand what was going on. And I didn't usually let them in so much on my personal life, the things they didn't need to or I didn't want them to know, but this was a major change now and if I was going to let them know, they did deserve a little backstory.

"Hello. So if I seem a bit more awkward than usual, and you notice that this definitely doesn't look like my usual location, this might explain some things.

"Well, a few weeks ago –never mind how long— and I can't remember if I told you this already, but my parents decided to take in someone from a… psychiatric home. Now, at first I was unbelievably against the idea, like, seething with rage and anxiety at the thought of someone new coming into my home for the school year. I was still brooding when he arrived but I pretty quickly realized how strangely normal he was… Like, I never would've guessed he had, well, issues. He was really friendly, polite… I never expected something like that, but I also learned pretty quickly that it was all legit, that he wasn't putting on an act for us."

I went on to tell the camera –and indirectly the viewers— an essential step-by-step of our relationship: how we'd become friends and then falling in love, and all the important events like the water tower, the park and the kiss, and the party and all that it brought about. I couldn't stop talking about Phil. I wanted to go deeper into exactly how I felt, but I couldn't properly express my love out loud. So I didn't bother trying to describe it, and rather tried to get to the meat of the situation, rather than what led up to it, as I'd just about milked that dry.

"I'd always kinda suspected that I wasn't, like, right in the head or something. Like I was always way too anxious for my own good, especially when it came to being around other people. Now, have I been diagnosed with something? No; but this place doesn't seem to need a formal diagnosis of an issue before they take you in. I talked to the woman in charge, and she said as long as I pay well to stay here, then I'll be here like any other student –and if I am diagnosed with anxiety or something, then I'll be allowed to live here without paying out of pocket.

"But the whole anxiety or whatever it is, that's not really why I came here. I came here because my boyfriend is being sent back, and I'd much rather live in this hellhole with him, than back with my family who don't understand. Now, before you go and say I'm throwing my life away for a two-week romance or something, here's the thing: I don't fucking care. I had no life or prospects for the future before; at least here I can be happy with my boyfriend and help him get better, and maybe get better myself, and when we're out we can go and live our lives. We'll get jobs and a little place to live; it won't be much and it won't be easy, but we'll have each other. And I need him more than I could ever make any of you understand. He's the first person to actually make me feel alive, and I'm not giving that up for the whole world. Does it mean I'll be cut off or disowned? Maybe. Will my parents suspect I came here? Probably, but do they really care? No. This is actually probably a burden off of them. I was never cut out for their world, I guess. So I'm happy with the choice I've made, and I don't think I'm gonna regret it.

"Now, I made a deal with the lady in charge of this place. I got here a little while ago, and I know Phil's already here but they promised to keep him busy just for a little bit before he comes to the room. I had her say that there's a new roommate waiting for him and has been here a while. I don't think he'll catch on; he's smart, but this isn't really a predictable twist. I hope he's not upset with me for not saying goodbye this morning. I don't think he will be once he sees me here, and knows we won't be separated again!"

The door creaked open, as if on cue, and I spun around to see his reaction when he saw me. But it wasn't Phil; it was one of the nurses.

"Mr. Howell, you need to come with me, quickly."

* * *

"He was already in such a state when he arrived. We'd never seen him shut down like this before –Dr. Geiger took him in for a session but couldn't get him to talk. We tried to ease him, telling him about his new roommate and how well you two would get along, but wasn't responsive. We took him to the cafeteria to eat, and he refused, so we took him back to Dr. Geiger. And the first thing he said since your parents drove off was that he was worried he might kill himself."

That thought struck me like a blow. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "S-So you put him in there?" I was fuming and sort of devastated over this.

"It's what we do with all our suicide threats."

The woman and I were standing in front of a barred window looking into another room. The room was cushioned floor to ceiling, and completely bare but for the young man curled up in a corner. My Phil was in there, thinking he might do something so rash as to end his own life. A ball of guilt burned in my stomach; this was my fault. If I had seen him off this morning like I'd promised, or given him some hope for our future last night instead of some "time will tell" bullshit, when I knew that I was coming here, maybe he wouldn't be driven to this point.

What probably scared me most was how he might have been considering something like this for a long time; contemplating whether or not to end it all, and I never would've known. He always acts so happy and bubbly and full of hope that I, nor probably anyone else, would ever suspect it. The thought made me sick and I needed to talk to him.

"He'll be in there forty-eight hours, or until he recants the threat and Dr. Geiger can determine whether or not it's genuine. It's best you don't speak to him beforehand."

"He'd want to see me. I know it. Please, just…"

Until this last plea of mine everything said had been in a whisper, as anything louder would be heard by Phil from inside the room. His head shot up, presumably at the recognition of my voice. His face was red and damp, and his eyes glittered with life. "D-Dan?"

I reached through the bars of the glassless window, much to the chagrin of the head honcho. "Yeah, baby, I'm here!"

Around my arm I could see him jump to his feet and stumble toward me, taking my hand in his shaking hands and holding it to his face, needing my touch. I stroked my thumb over his cheekbone, telling him over and over that it would be alright. Explanations could wait, for now it was me and him and that was all that mattered.

* * *

I told him later what was going on. We were still both pressed against the walls to see each other through rails, and neither of us could wait until we could properly be in the other's embrace again. Dr. Geiger would check on him tonight, and see if the self-destructive urge had subsided. I hope it had. I needed to know my love was safe.

We talked and talked for hours, about what lied ahead for us, and what we'd do once we could get out of here. Phil urged that we at least finish our education here, and I relented; it meant we'd be here until June, but that would fly by for both of us now. It was much better than waiting that long to be with each other again. And then we'd find a place to live, and get jobs to pay for it, and live our little lives happily together. I beamed at the idea, and really couldn't wait to get started.

"And we'll live happily ever after," he grins. "Promise?"

"Promise."

**END**

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for reading! You can send in ideas for my next fic (which I'll be starting soon) at ask


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